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I 



FAIRY GOLD 

POEMS 

BY 

KATHARINE LEE BATES 




NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & CO. 

681 FIFTH AVENUE 

1916 






Copyright, 1916 

BY 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 



Printed in five United, States of America 

NOV 29 I9IB 



©CI.A446656 



Co 
KATHARINE KEITH 

AND TO ALL THE 

KATHARINES 

WHO DO ME THE HONOR 
TO BEAR MY NAME 



CONTENTS 






PAGB 


FAIRY GOLD: A Play 


I 


POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 




Christmas Island 


. 81 


Santa Claus' Riddle . 


• 85 


Goody Santa Claus . 


• 92 


Santa's Stocking .... 


104 


Lolita's Bethlehem 


. 107 



POEMS OF SUNSHINE 



Sunshine . 

A Song of Riches. 

Song of the Sunshine Club 



1*5 
120 
121 



POEMS OF VACATION 



Vacation .... 
Wide Awake and Fast Asleep 
The Sun out of Temper 
Somebody Knows . 

v 



125 
127 
129 
132 



VI CONTENTS 






PAGE 


The Rivulet .... 


. 133 


Fair Weather .... 


. 136 


Nutting Song .... 


• 138 


Plucking the Goose 


. 140 


A Winter Day .... 


. 141 


Out to Play .... 


• 143 



Through the Golds and the Greens of Spring 147 
POEMS OF FLOWERS 



A Tulip Tea-Party 


. 151 


Daffydowndillies 


■ 153 


Witchcraft ..... 


. 154 


The Rainbow Path 


• 155 


Sandalphon's Rosebuds 


. 157 


POEMS OF FUR AND FEA1 


^HERS 


Grandsire Squirrel Gray . 


. 161 


Little Shadowtail 


. 165 


Peterkin ..... 


. 167 


Robin's Secret .... 


. 169 


On a Ramble .... 


. 171 


A Music-Lesson .... 


• 173 


The Bird Hotel .... 


. 174 



CONTENTS 


Vll 


POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE 

PAGE 


Baby Beth ...... 


. 179 


Baby's Baggage . 






. 180 


At Recess . 






. 181 


The Measuring Rod 






. 181 


The Barberry Baby 






. 183 


Home from School 






. 184 


Rebecca and Abigail 






. 185 


Little Tom a Becket 






. 189 


NONSENSE VERSES 




Hudson's Cat .... 


• 193 


Don't You Sea? .... 


. 195 


First Night in the Country 


. 197 


The Voyage of the Lily-Pad 


. 199 


Out of Fashion .... 


. 200 


The Old Man of the . 


Moun 


TAINS. 


. 201 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 



Slumber Fairies 205 

Fairy's Lullaby ...... 207 

Fairy Rip Van Winkle 209 

The Troll 211 



Vlll CONTENTS 






PAGB 


Baby Hazel's Voyage . 


. 213 


Bonny's Birthday 


• 215 


The Wishing-Cap 


. 219 


The Little Knight in Green 


. 222 


Our Family Crest 


. 225 



Fairy Gold: A Play 



Fairy Gold 

A Play in Three Scenes 

The Players, in Order of Entrance: 

Leprecaun, the Fairy Shoemaker 
The Pansy Fairies: 

Twinkle, a Saucy Fairy in a Yellow Hat 
Speckle, a Kindly Fairy in a Hat of 

Many Colors 
Skypeep, a Very Polite Fairy in a Blue 

Hat 
Weewee, the Smallest Fairy in a White 

Hat trimmed with Brown 
Dusky, a Queen Fairy in a Purple Hat 
Jack-a-Dreams 
Lady Leprecaun 
Zan-in-a-Tippet 



SCENE I 

[If the play is acted out of doors, a lawn with 
bushes of blossoming forsythia would make the 
best of springtime settings. For later summer, a 
meadow of goldenrod or indigo weed would 
answer, or, where gorse grows, the gorse. If the 
play is indoors, and the florist has no yellow 
blossoming plants to give away, home artists can 
fashion flowers yet unknown to botany from 
green pasteboard and yellow paper. In the thick 
of the golden bloom is a rough brown stump of 
considerable size. On this is seated, cross-legged, 
an elf who looks, at first glance, like a twisted 
outgrowth of the stump. He is dressed in brown 
from top to toe, except for the magic red cap with 
the white owl-feather which is the regular head- 
gear of fairymen. He wears a brown leather 
apron. A pile of nine silvery slippers lies on 



4 FAIRY GOLD 

the stump beside him, and he is pounding, with 
steady strokes, on a tenth, chanting dolefully in 
time to the blows of his small hammer. {A bit 
of metal, concealed inside the slipper, will make 
the hammer-strokes ring) A group of five bare- 
footed pansy fairies , each dressed in close-fitting 
green with a very broad hat of one pansy hue or 
another, wait about the stump with soft, fluttering 
motions, so full of frolic that they cannot stand 
still.] 

Leprecaun: 
Alack! 
Tick-tack! 
Tack-tick! 

Twinkle: 
Be quick. 
Don't croak 
And stop 
For groans, 



FAIRY GOLD 

You slow 
Old poke. 

Speckle: 

Tut, tut ! 

Leprecaun [Rubbing himself all over] : 
Oh, oh! 
Tick-tack ! 
Tack-tick ! 
I am 
One ache 
From top 
To toe. 
My back 
Will break. 
Oh, what 
A crick ! 

Twinkle : 

Don't nurse 



FAIRY GOLD 



Your dry 
Old bones. 
Be spry 
And make 
Your ham- 
Mer click. 
Don't shirk. 
Just keep 
At work. 
Our purse 
Is deep. 

Speckle : 
I fear 
He's in 
A dump. 



Leprecaun : 
Why not? 



FAIRY GOLD 



My lot 
Is drear. 

Twinkle [Mockingly]: 
Hear, hear ! 

Leprecaun [Angrily]: 
You know 
'Tis so, — 
That year 
By year, 
Upon 
This queer 
Old stump, 
I mend 
Your shoes 
From dews 
Of dawn 
Till dews 
Of eve. 



5 FAIRY GOLD 

Alack ! 
Tick-tack . 

Skypeep: 

Good friend, 
Receive 
Our thanks. 
You win 
Our love. 
Great pains 
You take, 
All for 
Our sake. 

Twinkle: 

O pshaw ! 
His gains 
He'll make 
In gold. 
Huge store 



FAIRY GOLD 9 

Thereof 
He hoards 
In se- 
Cret banks. 

Weewee : 

Does he ? 
Let's look 
For them 
By hill 
And brook 
And wil- 
Low stem. 

Leprecaun [Shaking his head almost off his 
shoulders] : 
No, no ! 
Not so ! 
No more 
Bright gold 



10 FAIRY GOLD' 

This earth 
Affords 
For me 
Than grows 
On shrub. 

Twinkle: 
Oh, rub 
Your knee ! 

Leprecaun [Threatening Twinkle with his 
hammer and then throwing it 
down] : 

The scamp ! 

He knows 

How hard 

I work 

In heat 

And damp 

And cold. 



FAIRY GOLD II 

Twinkle: 
A cross- 
Legged Turk, 
You guard 
Your gold. 

Dusky [Speaking to Twinkle as severely as a 
fairy can] : 
Tush, tush ! 
Enough ! 
Now hush ! 
You mar 
Our mirth. 
You jar 
Our joy. 
You are 
Too rough 
And bold. 

[To the Leprecaun.] 

We blush 



12 FAIRY GOLD 

For this 
Annoy 
And would 
Entreat 
Your speed, 
Kind sir. 
Forget 
All ill, 
For still 
Our feet 
Go bare. 

Leprecaun [Folding his arms tighter than 
tight] : 
Indeed ! 
Why should 
I care? 
Why should 
I stir? 
I'll take 



FAIRY GOLD 1 3 

My ease. 
A Turk ! 

Weewee: 

You'll make 
Us cry. 

Leprecaun [Coldly]: 
Will I ? 

Speckle : 

Oh, please ! 

Leprecaun [Glancing down at his hammer]: 

Not yet. 

Skypeep: 

I'll throw 
A kiss. 

[So she does, but Twinkle jumps up 
and catches it.] 

Twinkle : 

Oho! 



14 FAIRY GOLD 

You miss 
Your aim. 

Speckle: 

For shame ! 

[All the other fairies point reproach- 
fully at Twinkle.] 

Skypeep: 
Ofie! 
Don't tell. 

Weewee: 

You could 
Be good, 
As well 
As I. 

Dusky [To Twinkle in a calm but awful 
voice]: 
We'll shut 
You up 



FAIRY GOLD 1 5 

In a- 
Corn cell, 
Or cut 
You up 
Yourself 
For gold 
And pay 
Him well. 

Leprecaun [Picking up his hammer]: 
Hurray ! 
Good pay. 

[All the other fairies set upon Twinkle, 
opening and shutting their fingers 
like scissors.] 

Twinkle [Running about in a fright]: 
Away ! 
Help all! 
I'll call 



16 FAIRY GOLD 

The elf 
Police. 

[To Dusky.] 

Oh, cease 
To scold. 
I'm good 
As gold. 

Dusky: 

Just hold 
That mood. 

Leprecaun [Hammering with might and 
main]: 
Tick-tack ! 
Tack-tick ! 
My knack 
Is quick. 
'Tis now 
My whim 



FAIRY GOLD 1 7 

To show 
My skill. 

Skypeep: 

Let's bow 

To him. 

[The fairies make a great many bows, 
faster and faster and deeper and 
deeper, till Weewee topples over, 
while the Leprecaun, tossing the 
mended slipper to Skypeep, falls 
to work on another.] 

Skypeep [Offering her slipper politely, but 
very rapidly, to each fairy in 
turn.]: 
[To Dusky]: 
Will you 
Take it ? 
Not so ? 



1 8 FAIRY GOLD 

[To Weewee]: 
Oh, you 
It will 
Not fit 
At all, 
I know. 

[To Speckle]: 
My shoe 
Were small 
For you, 

[To Twinkle]: 
And you. 
Oh, oh ! 

[Twinkle has snatched the slipper, but 
as all the fairies begin to chase him, 
again opening and shutting their 
fingers like scissors, he flings it back 
to Sky peep, who puts it on and hops 
joyously about on one foot.] 



FAIRY GOLD 1 9 

Dusky : 

Pan sic s wear, 
Pansies wear 
Purples woven 
Out of air, 
Out of air, 
Dew and sun; 
Purple pansies; 
I am one. 

Pansies wear 
Overnight 
Slippers made of 
Silver light; 
Silver shoon 
Softly spun 
Out of moonshine; 
Give me one. 

[The Leprecaun drops a slipper to 
Dusky and hammers away on 



20 FAIRY GOLD 

another. Dusky takes Skypeep's 
hands and, each on one foot, they 
skip about together.] 

Twinkle [Mocking Dusky' s song]: 
Pansies wear — 
— Look at me ! — 
Gleamy yellows, 
Good to see, 
Good to see 
In the sun; 
Merry fellows; 
I am one. 

Cobbler sits, 
Cobbler sits 
Hammering with 
All his wits, 
All his wits, 
Just for fun, 



FAIRY GOLD 21 

Mending slippers. 

Give me one. 

[The Leprecaun shies a slipper at the 
head of Twinkle, who dodges and 
catches it. Putting it on, he takes 
hands with Dusky and Skypeep and 
they hop about in a circle.] 

Speckle [Leading Weewee up to the stump]: 
Pansies wear, 
I have heard, 
Like to flower, 
Moth and bird, 
What they have, 
Stripe or freckle. 

Weewee : 

Slippers, please, 
For me and Speckle. 

[The Leprecaun hands down a slipper 



22 FAIRY GOLD 

to Speckle, which she fits on the foot 
of Weewee, who goes skipping in the 
circle with the rest. The Lepre- 
caun hammers harder than ever, 
while Speckle stands waiting.] 

Leprecaun [Growing more cheerful as he gets 
on with his task]: 
Tick-tack ! 
Tack-tick ! 
No thorn 
Shall prick 
Your feet 
So light. 

[Gives a slipper to Speckle, who joins 
the fairy ring, while the Leprecaun 
mends the rest of the slippers, one 
after another, at an amazing rate of 
speed.] 
No elf, 



FAIRY GOLD 23 



No flower, 
Shall lack 
To-night 
Soft shoon 
As bright 
As our 
Own moon, 
As her 
White fire. 
Though torn, 
Perchance, 
By burr 
Or brier, 
Though worn 
By danc- 
ing step 
Upon 
The lawn, 
Across 
The moss, 



24 FAIRY GOLD 

Myself, 

Myself, 

The Lep- 

Recaun, 

With patch 

On patch 

Will make 

Them neat 

For f air- 

Y feet. 

So take ! [Tosses a slipper to Dusky.] 

So catch ! [Throws another to Speckle.] 

Your share ! [Flings another to Skypeep.] 

Your match ! [Pitches another to Weewee.] 

My birds ! 

But who 

Deride 

My skill [Points angrily at Twinkle.] 

May rue 

Their words 



FAIRY GOLD 25 

And wait. 

Twinkle: 

[Clambers up on the stump and sits 
close beside the Leprecaun, holding 
the last slipper under the hammer. 
The other fairies, now able to use 
both feet, join hands and dance 
about the stump.] 

No fear ! 

I will 

Abide 

Right here, 

Old mate. 

Leprecaun [Relenting]: 
What, what ! 
Hum, hum ! 
Oho! 
You'll sit 



26 FAIRY GOLD 

By me 
And try 
To coax 
Me so 
With aid? 
A hoax ! 

Twinkle: 
No, no, 
I'm not 
So bad, 
Old lad, 
—Don't hit 
My thumb !— ■ 
But I 
Am made 
Of jokes 
And glee, 
Not glum 
Like some 



FAIRY GOLD 2*J 

Old folks 

I know. 
Leprecaun [In high good humor]: 

Tick-tack ! 

Tack-tick! 

My back 

May ache, 

But fays 

Must trip 

In sil- 
Ver shoon 

When moon- 
Shine plays. 

So take 

Your pick. 

[Laughingly fits the one slipper left on 
Twinkle's uptilted foot.] 
Twinkle : 

I will, 

Thankee. 



28 FAIRY GOLD 

Now skip 

With me. 

[Twinkle pulls the stiff old elf up with 
him and they dance together on the 
stump, while the other fairies circle 
about them and sing.] 

Fairies : 

Who's the fairy milliner? 
Don't you wish you knew? 
Would you buy your hats of her ? 
Wouldn't you? 

Underneath the Sunset Tree, 
Where the bright leaves drop, 
She is busy in her wee 
Pansy shop. 

Every leaf her shears cut out 
Into scallops five, 
— Shears that buzz like bees about 
Honey-hive; 



FAIRY GOLD 29 

For a million hats they frame, 
Funny, curly shears, 
But the fashions are the same 
All the years. 

Leprecaun [Pushing Twinkle to the edge of 
the stump]: 
You bump 
Me, boy. 
Begone ! 

Twinkle [Springing down]: 
I jump. 
Enjoy 
Your stump 
Alone. 

[The Leprecaun whirls around and 
around on the stump, his leather 
apron flapping out in front of him 
and his owl-feather cap trying to 



30 FAIRY GOLD 

fly, while the fairies laugh and clap. 
Soon he sinks down, tired out, and 
waves them all away.] 

Leprecaun : 
So, so! 
Be pleased 
Togo. 
I can 
No more 
Be teased 
By you. 
I'm sore 
All through. 
The earth's 
Not all 
A pan- 
Sy bed. 

Twinkle : 
Buz-buz ! 



FAIRY GOLD 3 1 

Who said 
It was ? 

Leprecaun : 

Your worth's 
But small 
Beside 
The rose. 

Dusky: 

Who knows? 

Leprecaun : 
A score 
Of flowers 
Will soon 
Be here 
With shoes 
All torn 
By burr 



32 FAIRY GOLD 

And thorn. 
Before 
They call, 
I need 
Repose. 

Speckle : 

Poor dear I 
He's wan 
And hol- 
Low-eyed. 

Skyblue: 

We're gone. 
Don't chide. 

Dusky : 

The moon 
Is due 

In few 



FAIRY GOLD 33 

Swift hours. 
O pan- 
Sies, flit. 
We can 
Not lose 
One gleam 
Of her. 

Weewee : 
No, no. 
Not one 
Bright beam 
Of her. 

[As the fairies are dancing away, 
Leprecaun begins to hem and haw.] 

Leprecaun : 
Yet stay ! 
Yet hold! 
My pay ! 
My bill ! 



34 FAIRY GOLD 

Twinkle: 
Oho! 
That's it. 
A dun ! 
Old gold- 
Bug still ! 

[The fairies skurry hither and yon 
over the field. Each finds something 
bright and yellow and tosses it into 
Leprecaun's leather apron.] 

Leprecaun : 
What gain ? 
What make 
I by 
My wit 
Of hand? 
A flake 
Ofi- 
Singlass ! 



FAIRY GOLD 35 

Some yel- 
Low sand ! 
All vain. 
A bit 
Of horn ! 
A grain 
Of corn ! 
Alas! 
But here 
— Take cheer, 
My eyes ! — 
Here, here 
Is gold. 
All's well. 
Gold, gold ! 
Odear 
Delight! 
I'll hold 
It tight. 

[He hugs a big gilt button.] 



36 FAIRY GOLD 

Fairies: 

The wind's far whistle 
Calls every fay. 
Down of the thistle. 
Away! 

In your lap of leather 
Our gold we throw. 
Flight of a feather. 
We go. 

Leprecaun [Watching the little pansy people 
as, still singing, they dance out 
of sight]: 

Ay, ay! 

Flit fast. 

Keep step. 

Goodbye. 

They're gone. 

The Lep- 

Recaun 



FAIRY GOLD 37 

At last 
Can yawn. 

[Yawns prodigiously.] 
Dance on 
To your 
Moon ball. 

[Murmurs drowsily.] 
Alack! 
I'm sure 
By dawn 
You'll all 
Be back. 

[The Leprecaun, still clutching his gilt 
button, curls himself up on the 
stump and jails fast asleep.] 



SCENE II 

[As before, the Leprecaun still sound asleep 
on his stump. Enter Jack-a-Dreams, all in 
tatters, except for his red necktie, with an empty 
sack and a shovel on his shoulder.] 

Jack-a-Dreams : 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks 

Crammed with gleaming gold! 
Still I search and still Zan mocks, 

But she will not scold 
When I find the elfin treasure, 

Fill my sack and scamper home 
With more gold than man can measure, 

Yellow as the sunlit foam. 

[The Leprecaun stirs and begins to 

uncurl.] 

38 



FAIRY GOLD 39 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks 

Buried years agone 
Deep beneath the lichened rocks 

By the Leprecaun. 
Zan, whose tongue so often chides me, 

Will forgive my thriftless ways 
When a shower of gold-dust hides me, 

Like the sun in dazzling haze. 

[The Leprecaun stretches his short arms 
and legs in a long yawn.] 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

I will stuff with gold 
All her teapots, all her socks. 

Then she will not scold. 
I will take her old gray tippet, 

Gnawed o'nights by hungry mice, 
And in molten gold I'll dip it 

Till it shines like Paradise. 



40 FAIRY GOLD 

[The Leprecaun sits upright on the 
stump with crossed legs, rubs his 
eyes and begins to chuckle. His 
back is turned to Jack-a-D reams, 
whose presence he has not noticed.] 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 
I will — zooks! what's that? 

[Jack catches sight of the fairy shoe- 
maker and, jumping back in great 
surprise and excitement, drops his 
shovel, which falls noiselessly on the 
grass.] 

'Tis the Leprecaun who locks 
Up his gold. 

Leprecaun : Tit-tat ! 

[The Leprecaun raps softly with his 
hammer on one side of the stump. A 



FAIRY GOLD 4 1 

door opens and out peeps the. elfin 
face, looking much like a walnut, of 
Lady Leprecaun.] 

Jack-a-Dreams : 

Bless my eyes, 'tis his old mother, 

But without a pipe, like mine 
Drowsing in the peat-smoke smother — 
How I'll dress her up ! 

Lady Leprecaun [Whose voice is no more 
than a squeak}: 
Wilt dine, 
My son ? 
A roast- 
Ed snail 
Is set 
Upon 
The mush- 
Room plate 
For thee. 



42 FAIRY GOLD 

Leprecaun: 
Not yet. 
I'll wait 
Till tea. 

Lady Leprecaun : 

Tush, tush ! 
Thou'rt pale. 
Not well, 
My pet? 
A toast- 
Ed mel- 
On seed 
Might whet 
Thine ap- 
Petite. 

Leprecaun: 

Mayhap 
It might 
To-night; 



FAIRY GOLD 43 

But now 
I need 
Thee, mam, 
To sew 
For me. 

Lady Leprecaun: 
Then thou 
Hast got 
One but- 
Ton more 
In store ? 

Leprecaun: 

Just see 
This toy ! 

[Triumphantly displaying the big gilt 
button.] 

Lady Leprecaun [Her walnut-head wagging 
with eagerness] : 
What, what? 



44 



FAIRY GOLD 



Oh, oh I 
My clev- 
Er lamb ! 
My love- 
Lytoad ! 
I'll sew 
Apace 
For thee, 
My val- 
iant dove ! 
My grace- 
Ful bum- 
Ble-bee ! 
Was ev- 
Er boy 
Like him ! 
I'll sew 
The but- 
Ton strong, 
And make 



FAIRY GOLD 45 

Him fit 
For court, 
So fine 
He shall 
Outshine 
Them all 
In fair- 
Y hall. 

Leprecaun [Lying flat across the stump and 
reaching down both arms to 
help her] : 

Then come 

Along, 

And quit 

Our dim 

Abode, 

Our low- 

Ly fort. 

Here! take 

My hand, 



46 FAIRY GOLD 

So — so, 
And climb 
The brier- 
Built stair 
Above, 

[Lady Leprecaun, all in brown like her 
son } is very stiff with her great age 
and has much difficulty in scramb- 
ling up.] 

For I'm 
On fire 
To wear 
My grand 
New coat. 

[He whisks out from a closet in the 
stump a jacket of scarlet silk } set with 
seven rows of gilt buttons. Each 
row but one has seven buttons; the 
unfinished row has only six.] 



FAIRY GOLD 47 

Lady Leprecaun [Panting from her exer- 
tions] : 
Puff, puff! 
Huh, huh ! 
Ump, ump ! 

son, 

1 do 

Not doat 
Upon 
Thy rough 
Old stump. 

[He pats her affectionately and places 
her on a moss cushion with her back 
to his.] 

Leprecaun: 

Now sit 
Thou here 
And take 
Support 



48 FAIRY GOLD 

From my 

Firm back. 

[As Lady Leprecaun sits sewing with 
her shoulders braced against those 
of her son, who is nearly asleep 
again, she faces Jack, staring open- 
mouthed, but, intent on her work, 
does not see him. While she stitches, 
she pipes in that shrill voice of hers 
the fairy sewing-song.] 

Lady Leprecaun: 

When a fairy 
Has torn her gown 
She need not carry 
Pennies to town. 

If a needle 

Is her desire, 

She can wheedle 

A thorn from the brier. 



FAIRY GOLD 49 

She can provide her 
Floss white as milk, 
Coaxing the spider 
For cobweb silk. 

Birds prick cherries, 
But never an elf 
Mid thimble-berries 
Need prick herself. 

The field's a city 
Whose shops are free — 

[Lady Leprecaun suddenly glances up 
and sees the mortal in front of her.] 

Jack-a-Dreams [Mocking her piping tones]: 
Finish your ditty 
And don't mind me. 

[Both fairies vanish in a twinkling 
within the stump, but Jack rushes 
up just in time to snatch the red cap 
with the owl-feather from the dis- 



50 FAIRY GOLD 

appearing head of the Leprecaun. 
Jack dances about, flourishing his 
prize.] 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

I need no longer hunt. 
I hold your magic cap, old fox. 

Give me gold. 

Leprecaun [Popping into view for an instant 
over the further edge of the 
stump.] 

I won't. 

Jack-a-Dreams: 

Ha! I hold your white owl-feather, 
By whose virtue elves enchant. 

Cobbler, let us trade together, — 
Give me just one crock. 

Lady Leprecaun [Popping up exactly as her 
son had done] : 

He shan't. 



FAIRY GOLD 5 1 

Jack-a-Dreams : 

Eight-and-ninety treasure-crocks 

Left when I am done. 
Elf, appear! Your master knocks. 

[Jack sets the red cap on top of his head 
and raps three times on the stump.] 
Only one. 
Leprecaun [Popping up as before, but with a 
doleful face and the voice of a cry- 
ing child]'. 

Not one. 

Jack-a-Dreams : 

Amethysts to you and rubies 

Are like berries on the moor, 
Don't be stingy to us 

Lady Leprecaun [Popping up in a fury]: 

Boobies. 
We're the poorest of the poor. 



52 FAIRY GOLD 

Jack-a-Dreams: 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

Fairy , how you fib ! 
Really, such behavior shocks 

Boobies. You're too glib. 
Would you call my Zan-in-a-Tippet 

Naughty names? Look out for her, 
You bad-tempered little skippet, 

Prickly as a chestnut burr. 

[From within the stump is heard the 
wailing of the Leprecaun and the 
angry squeaks of his mother.] 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

Cobbler, you have fussed 
Long enough . Your master knocks . 

[Jack raps seven times, each rap louder 
than the one before, on the stump. 
At the seventh rap, out comes the 



FAIRY GOLD 53 

Leprecaun y his face twisted with 
crying.] 

Give me gold. 

Leprecaun : 

I must. [In a screech of despair.] 

Jack-a-Dreams 

You shall have your cap and feather 
For one crock of gold. We'll fill 

This my sack like friends together. 
Will you play me fair? 

Lady Leprecaun [From within the stump]: 

He will. 
Jack-a-Dreams: 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

Whoop ! — I told her so. 

Barnyard roosters, weathercocks, 

Help the dreamer crow. 

[Cockadoodles resound from far and 
near.] 



54 FAIRY GOLD 

Show me where the gold you bury, 
Michael Mole. — Zan'sfoolish doubts ! — 

Hey-down-hey-down-hey-down-derry! 
Come, be nimble, Peter Pouts. 

[Very sulkily the Leprecaun clambers 
down the stump and slowly leads the 
way across the field to one of the 
yellow-blossoming shrubs, where he 
stops and points earthward.] 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks 
Crammed with gleaming gold! 

We'll no more be laughing-stocks. 
Zan no more will scold. 

[ Jack picks up his shovel and weighs it 
in his hands.] 

Whew, but it's a heavy shovel ! 

Digging hard my hands would hurt, 
And I never liked to grovel 

In the unbecoming dirt. 



FAIRY GOLD 55 

Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks ! 

Ha, 'tis Zan shall dig. 
She's as strong as any ox, 

And her hands are big. 
But I must be keen and canny 

And beware of fairy trap. 
See me mark the spot, my manny. 

[Jack pulls off his red necktie and 
fastens it in a bowknot about the 
stem of the shrub.] 

There's my fortune. — Catch your cap. 
[Jack tosses the cap to the Leprecaun, 
who seizes it eagerly and races back 
to the stump, holding the cap down 
over his ears with both hands. Jack 
drops sack and shovel on the ground, 
and walks off whistling cheerily, his 
hands in his pockets.] 



SCENE III 

[As before. The Leprecaun sits hunched up 
on the stumpy his elbows on his knees, and his 
chin in his hands. Lady Leprecaun, a bent, 
witchlike little figure, stands beside him, leaning 
on a fairy-horn.] 

Lady Leprecaun: 

Come, come, 

My pet ! 

So glum? 

Don't fret. 

Be bold 

Of cheer, 

My clam, 

And hug 

Your dear 

56 



FAIRY GOLD 57 



Old mam. 
We need 
Not cry 
Until 

We're hurt, 
And still 
The gold, 
Bright seed 
Well sown, 
Is here 
Beneath 
Yon red 
Cravat. 
(The ug- 
Ly thing ! 
I would 
That it 
Were in 
My teeth.) 
We will 



58 FAIRY GOLD 

Outwit 
The boo- 
By yet 
And win 
Our own. 

Leprecaun [Gloomily]: 
But who 
Has prom- 
ised that 
I should 
Play fair? 

Lady Leprecaun: 
My bat, 
And so 
Thou shalt. 
Go free 
From fault. 
Trust all 



FAIRY GOLD 59 

To me, 
Fori, 
Sweet bird, 
My crow, 
Am bound 
By no 
Such word. 

Leprecaun [Doubtfully]: 
But thou 
Art old. 

Lady Leprecaun: 
Thou'rt pert, 
And not 
Too young 
Thyself. 
But hold 
Thy tongue, 
Thou squat- 



60 FAIRY GOLD 

Ly elf. 
Hark now ! 
I will 
With sil- 
ver sound 
Draw in 
Our kin 
From all 
Around. 
I call. 

[Lady Leprecaun lifts the fairy-horn 
and blows it thrice. Fairies, the 
Pansies among them, run in from 
every side. The fairymen are clad 
in close-fitting grass-green suits, 
topped by red caps like fire-flies. 
The fairywomen are dressed in all 
gay colors and look like a runaway 
flower-garden.] 



FAIRY GOLD 6 1 

Fairies [Singing as they gather about the 

stump]: 
We are the hid-folk, 
Under-the-leaf folk, 
Beautiful, brief folk, 

Glancing and gone. 
We are the mid-folk, 
Nor angel nor earth-folk, 
Glistening mirth-folk, 

Dew of the dawn. 

Lady Leprecaun: 

Fairies, fairies, fairies, 
Will ye serve our need? 

Fairies [Standing at attention before her]: 
Tell us, tell us where is 
Our task, that we may speed. 

Lady Leprecaun: 

Fairies, hither mortals 
Come to do us scorn. 



62 FAIRY GOLD 

Fairies: 

Shall we strew their portals 
With thistle and with thorn? 



Lady Leprecaun: 

A booby craves our yellow 
Gold to make him rich. 

Fairies: 

Shall we fling the fellow 
Into muddy ditch? 

Lady Leprecaun: 

You may hide his shovel 
And tear to bits his bag. 

Dusky [While the rest of the fairies gleefully 
run toward the spade and sack]: 
Have we your approval 



FAIRY GOLD 63 

To remove that rag? 

[She points toward the red necktie.] 

Leprecaun: 

No, old mother-honey. 
That isn't playing fair. 

Lady Leprecaun: 

I'll reason with my sonny, 
The while you tug and tear. 

[The fairies shred the sack into little 
pieces, which they tuck out of sight in 
the grass. It takes a score of them 
to carry off the shovel, on which 
Twinkle steals a ride, and thrust it 
under the bushes.] 

Fairies [Singing as they work]: 
We are the whim-folk, 
Butterfly-mood folk, 



64 FAIRY GOLD 

Myriad-hued folk, 

Mocking mankind; 

Dazzle-and-dim folk, 

Baffle-and- tease folk, 

Do-as-we-please folk, 

Hide-what-we-find. 

[Meanwhile the Leprecauns, with much 
shaking of heads and stiff but violent 
gestures, have been engaged in 
heated debate. Soon Lady Lepre- 
caun blows her silver horn, and the 
fairies re-assemble before the stump.] 

Lady Leprecaun: 

Fairies, you were zealous. 
Thanks and thanks to you. 

Fairies : 

Tell us, tell us, tell us 
More that we may do. 



FAIRY GOLD 65 



Leprecaun: 

You are not to meddle 
With that scarlet tie. 

Lady Leprecaun: 

But where mortals peddle, 
And where mortals buy, 
You'll find many another. 
Filch them one by one. 

Leprecaun : 

Why, my wizened mother? 

Lady Leprecaun: 

And why not, my son? 



Dusky: 

At the fair out yonder? 
5 



66 FAIRY GOLD 

Twinkle: 

And where gypsies bide? 

Lady Leprecaun: 

Wander, wander, wander, 
For the world is wide. 

Fairies [Singing as they dance away in all 
directions}: 
We are the dream-folk, 
Dancing-by-moon folk, 
Silvery-shoon folk, 

Whirling in rings ; 
Stealing-the-cream-folk, 
Raiding-the-shelf folk, 
Mischievous elf-folk, 
Burglars on wings. 
[The fairies are hardly gone before 
they are back again, each proudly 
waving a red necktie.] 



FAIRY GOLD 6j 

Dusky: 

The tinker, the tinker 

— What fun was that !— 
Busy about his 

Tinkering sat. 
Softly the tinker 

Was brushed by a gnat, 
And ho ! he's without his 

Red cravat. 



Speckle: 

The fisher, the fisher 

Dipped his oar 
To bring his wherry 

Back to the shore. 
Wave splashed the fisher; 

He'll long deplore 
Tie red as cherry 

That once he wore. 



68 FAIRY GOLD 

Weewee: 

The peddler, the peddler 

Slept in the sun 
And dreamed his bundle 

Started to run. 
Wheelbarrow peddler 

Awoke with one 
Less necktie to trundle. 

— Oh, that was fun! — 



Skypeep: 

The lover, the lover 

Sped through the rye, 
Where bees were humming, 

His luck to try. 
Bee stung the lover; 

Lass said Fie ! 
To see him coming 

Without a tie. 



FAIRY GOLD 69 

Twinkle [So wound about with red cravats 
that he looks like the Prince of the 
Poppies]: 
The raven, the raven 

From the shopman's line 
Stole — bad manners ! — 

Ties red as wine. 
A straw for the raven ! 

Nest in the pine 
Misses its banners. 
— What fun was mine ! — 

[And still fairies come leaping and 
laughing in with more and more red 
neckties, which they flourish as they 
dance about the stump.] 

Lady Leprecaun [Who has blown her silver 
horn for silence]: 
I call. 
The hour 



70 FAIRY GOLD 

Is near. 
Hush, all 
Who are 
Our friends, 
And hear 
My strat- 
Agem. 
Elves, I 
Beseech 
You, tie 
On each 
Tall stem 
That dips 
And bends 
With flower 
Of gold, 
Those scar- 
Let strips 
Ye hold. 
Work fast. 



FAIRY GOLD 7 1 

Leprecaun [Rocking with laughter until he 
has to hold his sides]: 
Ho, ho! 
I spy 

What thou 
Art at. 

Lady Leprecaun: 
At last, 
My bat? 

Fairies [Suiting action to word]: 

We bow. 

We go. 

We tie. 

[Enter Jack-a-Dreams and Zan-in-a- 
Tippet, who is a worried-looking 
woman with a gray worsted scarf, 
old and worn, about her neck. The 
fairies gaze at her in fascinated 
astonishment.] 



72 FAIRY GOLD 

Dusky: 

She is not glad. 

Twinkle : 

She is not free. 

Skypeep : 

She is not sweet. 

Speckle: 

Her smile has had 
A kitchen smut. 

Weewee: 

Her feet don't dance. 

Dusky : 

The ignorance 
Of mortal feet ! 

Skypeep: 

Nor yet her eyes. 
She does not see 
The butterflies. 



FAIRY GOLD 73 

Twinkle: 

When has she played? 

Speckle: 

Her tippet's frayed. 

Weewee : 

It's 'fraid o' what? 

Jack-a-Dreams [In argument with his wife]: 
When you see them, you'll believe. 

Zan-in-a-Tippet : 

Fiddle-faddle ! Men deceive. 

Jack: 

But I talked with two this noon. 

Zan: 

So you say, you great gossoon. 

Jack: 

They were uglier than apes. 

[The Leprecauns shake their fists at 
him.] 



74 FAIRY GOLD 

Zan: 

You're no beauty, Jackanapes. 
[The fairies laugh and skip.] 

Jack: 

Here they sit upon this stump. 

[Springing toward the Leprecauns, who 
crouch motionless.] 

Zan: 

Would they did, to catch a thump. 

[She strikes the rough brown wood, 
missing the elves by a few inches.] 

Jack [Rubbing his eyes in perplexity, after 
staring at the stump]: 
Sure, I thought I saw them there. 

Zan: 

You see nothing everywhere. [The 
fairies laugh.] 



FAIRY GOLD 75 

Jack: 

I hear fairy laughter now. 

Zan [With impatient contempt]: 

mew-mew! quack-quack! bow-wow! 

Jack: 

If you should meet a fairy, Zan, — 

Zan: 

I'd pickle him in an old tin can. 

[The fairies rush upon her and pinch 
her feet.] 

Jack: 

Why are you making such a face? 

Zan: 

There must be nettles in this place. 

Jack: 

1 tell you I talked with elves to-day. 

Zan: 

Likely story ! Where are they ? 



76 FAIRY GOLD 

Jack [Puzzled and rueful]: 

I can't see them any more. 

Zan: 

No, nor ever did before. 

Jack: 

But I'll find the crock of gold. 

Zan: 

I'll believe when I behold. 

Jack: 

I marked the very spot hereby. 

Zan: 

Spoiling your best Sunday tie. 

Jack [Gazing about the meadow in dismay]: 
Oh, but Zan — but Zan — but Zan — 

Zan: 

What's the matter with the man? 

Jack: 

All the shrubs are marked like ours. 



FAIRY GOLD 77 

Zan: 

Bairns at play have tagged the flowers. 

Jack: 

Where's my shovel? where's my sack? 

Zan: 

You'd lose the coat from off your back. 

Jack: 

Oh, the elves! the cheating elves! 

Zan: 

It is we who cheat ourselves. 

Jack: 

Fairy gold still flies from men. 

Zan: 

Earn an honest penny then. 

[Jack stands wringing his hands and 
crying, while Zan-in-a-Tippet boxes 
his ears and keeps on cuffing him 
until he kneels for mercy. Neither 



78 FAIRY GOLD 



of them sees or hears the fairies who 
dance in a merry ring about them, 
while the Leprecauns, the Cobbler in 
his court-jacket, indulge in a rheu- 
matic waltz upon the stumpy 



Fairies: 

We are the hid-folk, 
Seen-but-by-faith folk, 
Glimmering wraith-folk, 

Beauty's surprise; 
Not-to-be-chid folk, 
Not-to-be-proved folk, 
Only the loved folk 

Of childhood the wise. 



Poems of Christmas 



79 



CHRISTMAS ISLAND 

Fringed with coral, floored with lava, 

Three-score leagues to south of Java, 

So is Christmas Island charted 

By geographers blind-hearted, 

— Just a dot, by their dull notion, 

On the burning Indian Ocean; 

Merely a refreshment station 

For the birds in long migration; 

Its pomegranates, custard-apples 

That the dancing sunshine dapples, 

Cocoanuts with milky hollows 

Only feast wing-weary swallows, 

Or the tropic fowl there dwelling. 

Don't believe a word they're telling. 

Christmas Island, though it seem land, 

Is a floating bit of dreamland 
6 81 



82 FAIRY GOLD 

Gone adrift from childhood, planted 
By the winds with seeds enchanted, 
Seeds of candied plum and cherry: 
Here the Christmas Saints make merry. 



Even saints must have vacation; 
So they chose from all creation, 
As a change from iceberg castles 
Hung with snow in loops and tassels, 
Christmas Island for a summer 
Residence. The earliest comer 
Is our own saint, none diviner, 
Santa Claus. His ocean-liner 
Is a sleigh that's scudding fast. 
Mistletoe climbs up the mast, 
And the sail, so full of caper, 
Is of tissue wrapping-paper. 
As he steers, he hums a carol, 
But instead of fur apparel 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 83 

Smudged with soot, he's spick and spandy 
In white linen, dear old dandy, 
With a Borealis sash on, 
And a palmleaf hat in fashion 
Wreathed about with holly berry. 
Welcome, Santa! Rest you merry! 



Next, his chubby legs bestriding 

Such a Yule-log, who comes riding 

Overseas, the feast to dish up, 

But — aha ! — the boys' own bishop, 

Good St. Nicholas! and listen! 

Out of Denmark old Jule-nissen, 

Kindly goblin, bent, rheumatic, 

In the milk-bowl set up attic 

For his Christmas cheer, comes bobbing 

Through the waves. He'll be hob-nobbing 

With Knecht Clobes, Dutchman true, 

Sailing in a wooden shoe. 



84 FAIRY GOLD 

When the sunset gold enamels 
All the sea, three cloudy camels 
Bear the Kings with stately paces, 
Taking islands for oases, 
While a star-boat brings Kriss Kringle. 
Singing Noel as they mingle, 
Drinking toasts in sunshine sherry, 
How the Christmas Saints make merry ! 

While a gray contralto pigeon 

Coos that loving is religion, 

How they laugh and how they rollick, 

How they fill the isle with frolic . 

Up the Christmas Trees they clamber, 

Lighting candles rose and amber, 

Till the sudden moonbeams glisten. 

Then all kneel but old Jule-nissen, 

Who, a heathen elf stiff-jointed, 

Doffs his nightcap, red and pointed; 

For within the moon's pale luster 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 85 

They behold bright figures cluster; 
Their adoring eyes look on a 
Silver-throned serene Madonna, 
With the Christ-Child, rosy sweeting, 
Smiling to their loyal greeting. 
Would that on this Holy Night 
We might share such blissful sight, 
— We might find a fairy ferry 
To that isle where saints make merry ! 

SANTA CLAUS' RIDDLE 

Of all the happy and holy times 
That fill the steeples with merry chimes 
And warm our hearts in the coldest climes, 
'Twas Christmas eve, as I live by rhymes. 

One by one had the drowsy oaks 
Wrapt about them their snow-flake cloaks, 
And snugly fastened, with diamond pins, 
Fleecy nightcaps beneath their chins. 



86 FAIRY GOLD 

The stars had kissed the hills good-night, 
But lingered yet, with a taper light, 
Till the chattering lips of the little streams 
Were sealed with frost for their winter dreams. 

And the silver moonbeams softly fell 
On cots as white as the lily-bell, 
Where the nested children sweetly slept, 
While watch above them their angels kept. 

Eyes of gray and of hazel hue, 
Roguish black eyes and bonny blue, 
All with their satin curtains drawn, 
Peeped not once till the shining dawn. 

But still through the silent eventide 
Brown eyes twain were opened wide, 
Where, bolt upright in his pillows, sate 
A wise little wean called Curly Pate. 

Not yet the lore of schools and books 

Had troubled the peace of his childish looks, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 87 

But through the valleys of Fairyland 

He had walked with Wisdom, hand in hand. 

On midsummer eves he would hear, perchance, 
The shrill, sweet pipes of the elfin dance, 
And their dewy prints in the dawning trace 
On tremulous carpets of cobweb lace. 

He had caught the clink of the hammers fine, 
Where the goblins delve in their darksome 

mine, 
In green cocked hats of a queer design, 
With crystal tears in their ruby eyne. 

He had seen where the golden basket swings 
At the tip of the rainbow's dazzling wings, 
Full of the silver spoons that fall 
Into the mouths of babies small. 

He had met Jack Frost in tippet and furs, 
Pricking his thumbs on the chestnut burrs, 
And this learned laddie could tell, no doubt, 
Why nuts fall down and friends fall out. 



88 FAIRY GOLD 

And now, while the dusky night waxed late, 
All nid-nodding sat Curly Pate, 
Scaring the dreams, whose wings of gauze 
Would veil his vision from Santa Claus. 

And ever he raised, by a resolute frown, 
The heavy lids that came stealing down 
To rest their silken fringes brown 
On the rosiest cheek in Baby-Town. 

Till at last, at last, — so the legend tells, — 
He heard the tinkle of silver bells ; 
Tinkle! tinkle! a jocund tune 
Between the snow and the sinking moon. 

Oh, then, how the heart of our hero beat! 
How it throbbed in time to the music sweet, 
While gaily rung on the frosted roofs 
The frolicsome tramp of reindeer hoofs ! 

And down the chimney by swift degrees 
Came worsted stockings and velvet knees, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 89 

Till from furry cap unto booted feet 
Dear Saint Nicholas stood complete. 

Blessings upon him ! and how he shook 
His plump little sides with a mirthful look, 
As he crammed, his bright, blue eyes a-twinkle, 
The bairnie's sock in its every wrinkle. 

May he live forever — the blithe old soul, 
With cheeks so ruddy and shape so droll, 
Throned on a Yule-log, crowned with holly, 
The king of kindness, the friend of folly ! 

His task was done, and he brushed the snow 
From his crispy beard, as he turned to go; 
From his crispy beard and his tresses hoar, 
As he tiptoed over the moonlight floor. 

But the sparkling flakes to delicious crumbs 
Of frosted cakes and to sugar-plums 
Changed as they fell, whereat near by 
A bubble of laughter proved the spy. 



90 FAIRY GOLD 

Back from the chimney flashed the Saint, 
And stamped his feet in a rage so quaint 
That from scores of pockets the dolls in glee 
Popped up their curious heads to see. 

"Oho!" in a terrible voice he spake, 
"By the Mistletoe Bough ! a boy awake ! 
Now freeze my whiskers ! but in my pack 
I'll stow him away for a jumping-jack. 

"Wise as an owlet? Quick! the proof! 
My reindeer stamp on the snowy roof. 
So read my riddle, if sage you be, 
Or up the chimney you go with me. 

"Name me the tree of the deepest roots, 
Whose boughs are laden with sweetest fruits, 
In bleakest weather which blooms aright, 
And buds and bears in a single night. " 

Did Curly Pate tremble? Never a whit. 
Below the curls was the mother- wit; 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 9 1 

And well I ween that his two eyes brown 
Spied the dimple beneath the frown. 

So shaking shyly, with childish grace, 

The ringlets soft from his winsome face, 

He peeped through his lashes and answered 

true, 
As I trow that a brave little man should do : 

14 Please thy Saintship, no eyes have seen 
Thy wondrous orchards of evergreen ; 
But where is the wean who doth not long 
The whole year through for thy harvest song? 

"The Christmas Tree hath struck deep roots 
In human hearts : its wintry fruits 
Are sweet with love, and the bairns believe 
It buddeth and beareth on Holy Eve. " 

A stir in the chimney, a crackle of frost, 
A tinkle of bells on the midnight lost ; 



92 FAIRY GOLD 

And in mirth and music the riddling guest 
Had smiled and vanished, as saints know best. 

But low on his pillow the laddie dear 
Sank and slumbered, till chanticleer, 
Crowing apace, bade children wake 
To bless the dawn for the Christ-child's sake. 

GOODY SANTA CLAUS 

Santa, must I tease in vain, Dear? Let me 
go and hold the reindeer, 
While you clamber down the chimneys. 

Don't look savage as a Turk ! 
Why should you have all the glory of the 
joyous Christmas story, 
And poor little Goody Santa Claus have 
nothing but the work? 

It would be so very cozy, you and I, all round 
and rosy, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 93 

Looking like two loving snowballs in our 

fuzzy Arctic furs, 
Tucked in warm and snug together, whisking 

through the winter weather 
Where the tinkle of the sleigh-bells is the 

only sound that stirs. 

You just sit here and grow chubby off the 
goodies in my cubby 
From December to December, till your 
white beard sweeps your knees ; 
For you must allow, my Goodman, that 
you're but a lazy woodman 
And rely on me to foster all our fruitful 
Christmas trees. 

While your Saint ship waxes holy, year by 
year, and roly-poly, 
Blessed by all the lads and lassies in the 
limits of the land, 



94 FAIRY GOLD 

While your toes at home you're toasting, then 
poor Goody must go posting 
Out to plant and prune and garner, where 
our fir-tree forests stand. 

Oh ! but when the toil is sorest how I love our 
fir-tree forest, 
Heart of light and heart of beauty in the 
Northland cold and dim, 
All with gifts and candles laden to delight a 
boy or maiden, 
And its dark-green branches ever murmur- 
ing the Christmas hymn ! 

Yet ask young Jack Frost, our neighbor, who 

but Goody has the labor, 
Feeding roots with milk and honey that the 

bonbons may be sweet ! 
Who but Goody knows the reason why the 

playthings bloom in season 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 95 

And the ripened toys and trinkets rattle 
gaily to her feet ! 

From the time the dollies budded, wiry-boned 
and saw-dust blooded, 
With their waxen eyelids winking when the 
wind the tree-tops plied, 
Have I rested for a minute, until now your 
pack has in it 
All the bright, abundant harvest of the 
merry Christmastide ? 

Santa, wouldn't it be pleasant to surprise me 
with a present? 
And this ride behind the reindeer is the 
boon your Goody begs; 
Think how hard my extra work is, tending the 
Thanksgiving turkeys 
And our flocks of rainbow chickens — those 
that lay the Easter eggs. 



96 FAIRY GOLD 

Home to womankind is suited? Nonsense, 
Goodman ! Let our fruited 
Orchards answer for the value of a woman 
out-of-doors. 
Why then bid me chase the thunder, while the 
roof you're safely under, 
All to fashion fire-crackers with the light- 
ning in their cores? 

See! I've fetched my snow-flake bonnet, 
with the sunrise ribbons on it ; 
I've not worn it since we fled from Fairyland 
our wedding day ; 
How we sped through iceberg porches with the 
Northern Lights for torches ! 
You were young and slender, Santa, and we 
had this very sleigh. 

Jump in quick then? That's my bonny. Hey 
down derry ! Nonny nonny! 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 97 

While I tie your fur cap closer, I will kiss 
your ruddy chin. 
I'm so pleased I fall to singing, just as sleigh- 
bells take to ringing ! 

Are the cloud-spun lap-robes ready ? Tirra- 
lirra! Tuck me in. 

Off across the starlight Norland, where no 
plant adorns the moorland 
Save the ruby-berried holly and the frolic 
mistletoe ! 
Oh, but this is Christmas revel! Off across 
the frosted level 
Where the reindeers' hoofs strike sparkles 
from the crispy, crackling snow! 

There's the Man i' the Moon before us, 
bound to lead the Christmas chorus 
With the music of the sky-waves rippling 
round his silver shell — 



98 FAIRY GOLD 

Glimmering boat that leans and tarries with 
the weight of dreams she carries 
To the cots of happy children. Gentle 
sailor, steer her well ! 

Now we pass through dusky portals to the 
drowsy land of mortals; 
Snow-enfolded, silent cities stretch about 
us dim and far. 
Oh! how sound the world is sleeping, mid- 
night watch no shepherd keeping, 
Though an angel-face shines gladly down 
from every golden star. 

Here's a roof. I'll hold the reindeer. I sup- 
pose this weather-vane, Dear, 
Some one set here just on purpose for our 
team to fasten to. 

There's its gilded cock, — the gaby ! — wants to 
crow and tell the baby 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 99 

We are come. Be careful, Santa! Don't 
get smothered in the flue. 

Back so soon? No chimney-swallow dives 
but where his mate can follow. 
Bend your cold ear, Sweetheart Santa, 
down to catch my whisper faint : 
Would it be so very shocking if your Goody 
filled a stocking 
Just for once? Oh, dear! Forgive me. 
Frowns do not become a Saint. 

I will peep in at the skylights, where the moon 
sheds tender twilights 
Equally down silken chambers and down 
attics bare and bleak. 
Let me shower with hailstone candies these 
two dreaming boys — the dandies 
In their frilled and fluted nighties, rosy 
cheek to rosy cheek ! 



100 FAIRY GOLD 

What ! No gift for this poor garret? Take a 
sunset sash and wear it 
O'er the rags, my pale-faced lassie, till thy 
father smiles again. 
He's a poet, but — oh, cruel! he has neither 
light nor fuel. 
Here's a fallen star to write by, and a music- 
box of rain. 

So our sprightly reindeer clamber, with their 
fairy sleigh of amber, 
On from roof to roof, the woven shades of 
night about us drawn. 
On from roof to roof we twinkle, all the silver 
bells a-tinkle, 
Till blooms in yonder blessed East the rose 
of Christmas dawn. 

Now the pack is fairly rifled, and poor Santa's 
well-nigh stifled ; 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 10 1 

Yet you would not let your Goody fill a 

single baby-sock ; 
Yes, I know the task takes brain, Dear. I can 

only hold the reindeer, 
And to see me climb down chimney — it 

would give your nerves a shock. 

Wait! There's yet a tiny fellow, smiling 
lips and curls so yellow 
You would think a truant sunbeam played 
in them all night. He spins 
Giant tops, and flies kites higher than the gold 
cathedral spire 
In his dreams— the orphan bairnie, trustful 
little Tatterkins. 

Santa, don't pass by the urchin ! Shake the 
pack, and deeply search in 
All your pockets. There is always one toy 
more. I told you so. 



102 FAIRY GOLD 

Up again? Why, what's the trouble? On 
your eyelash winks the bubble 
Mortals call a tear, I fancy. Holes in stock- 
ing, heel and toe ? 

Goodman, though your speech is crusty now 
and then, there's nothing rusty 
In your heart. A child's least sorrow makes 
your wet eyes glisten, too; 
But I'll mend that sock so neatly it shall hold 
your gifts completely. 
Take the reins and let me show you what a 
woman's wit can do. 

Puff! I'm up again, my Deary, flushed a bit 

and somewhat weary, 
With my wedding snow-flake bonnet worse 

for many a sooty knock; 
But be glad you let me wheedle, since, an 

icicle for needle, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS IO3 

Threaded with the last pale moonbeam, I 
have darned the laddie's sock. 

Then I tucked a paint-box in it ('twas no easy 
task to win it 
From the Artist of the Autumn Leaves) and 
frost-fruits white and sweet, 
With the toys your pocket misses — oh! and 
kisses upon kisses 
To cherish safe from evil paths the mother- 
less small feet. 

Chirrup ! chirrup ! There's a patter of soft 
footsteps and a clatter 
Of child voices. Speed it, reindeer, up the 
sparkling Arctic Hill! 
Merry Christmas, little people! Joy-bells 
ring in every steeple, 
And Goody's gladdest of the glad. I've 
had my own sweet will. 



104 FAIRY GOLD 

SANTA'S STOCKING 

Dame Snow has been knitting all day 
With needles of crystal and pearl 
To make a big, beautiful stocking 
For Santa, her merriest son ; 
And now in some wonderful way 
She has hung it, by twist and by twirl, 
On the tip of the moon, and sits rocking, 
Old mother, her day's work done. 

How long and how empty it flaps, 
Like a new, white cloud in the sky ! 
The stars gleam above it for candles ; 
But who is to fill it and trim? 
Dame Snow in her rocking-chair naps. 
When Santa comes home by and by, 
Will he find — O scandal of scandals ! — 
No Christmas at all for him? 

Dear Saint of the reindeer sleigh, 
At his tink-a-link-tinkle-a-link, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS IO5 

The evergreens blossom with tapers ; 
'Tis Christmas by all the clocks; 
And wherever he calls, they say, 
The most polished andirons wink, 
The sulkiest chimney capers, 
And Baby kicks off its socks. 

His pack is bursting with toys ; 
The dollies cling round his neck; 
And sleds come slithering after 
As he takes the roofs at a run. 
Blithe lover of girls and boys, 
Bonbons he pours by the peck; 
Holidays, revels and laughter, 
Feasting and frolic and fun. 

Who would dream that his kind heart aches 
— Heart shaped like a candied pear, 
Sweet heart of our housetop rover — 
For the homes where no carols resound, 



106 FAIRY GOLD 

For the little child that wakes 
To a hearth all cold and bare, 
For Santa, his white world over, 
Finds Christmas doesn't go round ! 

Dame Snow has been knitting all day 
With needles of crystal and pearl 
To make a big, beautiful stocking 
For Santa, her busiest son; 
And now in some wonderful way 
She has hung it, by twist and by twirl, 
On the tip of the moon, and sits rocking, 
Old mother, her day's work done. 

Let us bring the dear Saint from our 

store 
Fair gifts wrapped softly in love; 
Let all gentle children come flocking, 
Glad children whose Christmas is sure ; 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS 107 

Let us bring him more treasures and more, 
While the star-candles glisten above, 
For whatever we put in his stocking, 
Santa Claus gives to the poor. 



LOLITA'S BETHLEHEM 

Seven shining sunsets 

Lead to Holy Night, 
And Lolita's Bethlehem 

Grows with her delight. 
Lola, Lolita, 

Little Spanish lass ! 
Blithely for Lolita 

The seven sunsets pass. 

Under Moorish arches 
Trips a timid tread. 

First we give the Holy Child 
With the haloed head, 



108 FAIRY GOLD 

And demure Lolita 

Makes her small salaam, 

Cherishing the Baby 
In a roseleaf palm. 

Blue and gold the sunset 

On our second eve; 
A Madonna blue and gold 

Lifted hands receive; 
And Lolita scampers, 

With a shout of joy, 
To carry Mary Mother 

"To her little boy." 

Frolic of light footsteps 
Dancing to the door; 

Who is waiting on a staff, 
Figure bowed and hoar? 

Merrily Lolita, 

Black eyes mischievous, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS IO9 

Kisses old Saint Joseph 
Before she kisses us. 

It is not Lolita, 

Sweetheart, who will scorn 
For her Holy Family 

Cow with crumpled horn. 
Lola, Lolita, 

Hugs it close and vows 
That it is her darling, 

The caramel of cows. 

Seven shining sunsets, 

One by one they pass. 
From a pearly twilight comes 

Humble Brother Ass. 
Lovingly Lolita 

Teaches him his part : 
"Kneel beside St. Joseph, 

Donkey of my heart. " 



110 FAIRY GOLD 

Next a china shepherd 

With two curly sheep, 
But Lolita hushes them 

Ere she lets them peep 
At the Christ-Child, shedding 

Tenderness and awe, 
Where He slumbers softly 

On a wisp of straw. 

Last of seven sunsets ! 

Hardly can we wait 
For Christmas Eve to enter in 

By that gleaming gate; 
While Lolita's angel, 

Balanced on a star, 
Acrobat with lilac wings, 

Plays a pink guitar. 

Blissfully Lolita, 
Careful not to hurt, 



POEMS OF CHRISTMAS III 

Gathers all the images 

In her little skirt. 
Lola ! Lolita ! 

To bed she carries them, 
For to-night all childhood 

Sleeps in Bethlehem. 



Poems of Sunshine 



113 



SUNSHINE 

The sun rode high, and the dear green Earth 
Was stirred in her motherly heart with mirth ; 
And to every blossom and dancing spray 
She gave the grace of a holiday. 

And oh ! what laughter the silver breeze 
Shook from the leaves of the poplar trees! 
How the streamlet, with all her sweet blue 

eyes, 
Smiled on the sport of the dragon-flies ! 

The flashing humming-bird deeply dipped 
In the jrellow tulip ; the blithe bee sipped 
From the purple, delicate cups of wine 
That he found on the morning-glory vine. 

The smallest fly and the least red thorn 

Were fair with summer and fresh with morn, 
115 



Il6 FAIRY GOLD 

When who should chance on the sunlit place, 
But a little girl with a sulky face? 

Through all the music and merriment 
She came, to trouble the world's content; 
And wheresoever her feet did pass, 
A shadow fell on the gleaming grass. 

She leaned out over the rivulet, 

And all at once it began to fret, 

And wrinkled its waves to a frown like that 

She carried under her broad-brimmed hat. 

A carpet shaming the wealth of earls, 
Softer than satin and bright with pearls, 
She crushed, nor heeded the spider's grief, 
As he wiped his eyes on a clover-leaf. 

'Twas Saturday, after the count of men; 
But the simple folk of meadow and glen, 
Clear of the calendar's restless freak, 
Keep seven Sabbaths in every week. 



POEMS OF SUNSHINE 117 

And so it happened that through the dells 

A soft chime floated of flower-bells, 

And the child at the roots of a tall, white 

birch 
Came on the worshipers all in church. 

The brook was an organ, passing sweet; 
On the swaying bough was the choir seat ; 
And the blue, blue heaven bent close to heed 
The murmured words of the woodland creed. 

The Reverend Buttercup leaned across 
A velvet pulpit of greenest moss, 
And preached a sermon, in still small voice, 
Whose text was ever, "Rejoice! rejoice !" 

"Behold, " quoth he, "how our Father's care 
Hath wrought the meadow exceeding fair ; 
And my jocund heart doth overrun 
With fragrant summer and fervid sun. 

"Behold, " quoth he, "though I barely fold 
In my tiny chalice a drop of gold, 



Il8 FAIRY GOLD 

How I yet reflect and, reflecting, praise 
The sun on whom I have set my gaze. 

"Bless God, " he cried, "with a sweet perfume, 
With tuneful ripple and tinted bloom, 
With dance of grasses, and faces bright, 
Bless God, the Giver of all delight !" 

So the preacher spake, and at every line 
Nodded the listening columbine ; 
And the lady's slipper resolved that day 
To walk henceforth in the upward way. 

The downy owlet forgot to blink; 

The robin heard, and the bobolink, 

And the wild-brier rose, who blushed to think 

Of her thorny ways till her buds turned pink. 

A tremulous tear, like a dewdrop, wet 
The downcast eye of the violet ; 
And her prayer of trustful penitence 
Was wafted to heaven for frankincense. 



POEMS OF SUNSHINE II9 

And the little lass of the pouting lip 
Smoothed, with a rosy finger-tip, 
From her tangled forehead the dreary frown, 
And hid her face in her ringlets brown. 

But she peeped from between the wind-blown 

locks 
At the clink of the contribution-box ; 
And when the squirrel came down the aisle, 
In his acorn-cup she dropped a smile. 

Then the little lass of the laughing lip 
They welcomed into their fellowship; 
And many a daisy and clover-stem 
Kissed her foot and her garment's hem. 

And the story saith that forever more 
On her soft brown tresses the maiden wore 
A crown of sunshine this side of heaven, 
And she kept her Sabbath day all the 
seven. 



120 FAIRY GOLD 

A SONG OF RICHES 

What will you give to a barefoot lass, 
Morning with breath like wine? 

Wade, bare feet ! In my wide morass 
Starry marigolds shine. 

Alms, sweet Noon, for a barefoot lass, 
With her laughing looks aglow ! 

Run t bare feet! In my fragrant grass 
Golden buttercups blow. 

Gift, a gift for a barefoot lass, 
O twilight hour of dreams ! 

Rest, bare feet, by my lake of glass, 
Where the mirrored sunset gleams. 

Homeward the weary merchants pass, 
With the gold bedimmed by care. 

Little they wis that the barefoot lass 
Is the only millionaire. 



POEMS OF SUNSHINE 121 

SONG OF THE SUNSHINE CLUB 

"What shall I make this morning? " 

The Sunshine Angel said. 
"Canary birds and merry words 

And a yellow crocus bed. " 

Chorus: 
The Sunshine Angel, dear to God, 

Goes singing on his way, 
Touching the dawn with a daffodil rod 

To make a happy day. 

The wings of the Sunshine Angel 

They brushed the willow-trees 
And goldfinch flocks and weather-cocks 

And grumble-bumblebees. 

Chorus: The Sunshine Angel, etc. 

"What shall I make this morning?" 

The Sunshine Angel said. 
"A marigold swamp, a butterfly romp, 

And the curls on a baby's head. " 



122 FAIRY GOLD 

Chorus: The Sunshine Angel, etc. 

The smile of the Sunshine Angel 

Went into a barberry shrub, 
A meadowlark's throat with its golden note, 

And the hearts of the Sunshine Club. 

Chorus: 
The Sunshine Angel, dear to God, 

Goes singing on his way, 
Touching the dawn with a daffodil rod 

To make a happy day. 



Poems of Vacation 



123 



VACATION 

I have shut my books and hidden my slate 
And tossed my satchel across the gate. 
My school is out for a summer of rest, 
And now for the schoolroom I love the best ! 

My schoolroom lies on the meadow wide, 
Where under the clover the sunbeams hide, 
Where the long vines cling to the mossy 

bars 
And the daisies twinkle like fallen stars ; 

Where clusters of buttercups gild the scene 
Like showers of gold-dust thrown over the 

green, 
And the wind's flying footsteps are traced, as 

they pass, 

By the dance of the sorrel and dip of the grass. 
125 



126 FAIRY GOLD 

My lessons are written in clouds and trees, 
And no one whispers, except the breeze, 
That sometimes blows, from a secret place, 
A stray, sweet blossom against my face. 

My school-bell rings in the rippling stream, 
That hides itself, like a schoolboy's dream, 
Under the shadow and out of sight, 
But laughing still for its own delight. 

My schoolmates there are the birds and bees, 
And the saucy squirrel, more dull than these, 
For he only learns, in all the weeks, 
How many chestnuts will fill his cheeks. 

My teacher is patient, and never yet 
A lesson of hers did I once forget, 
For wonderful lore do her lips impart, 
And all her lessons are learned by heart. 

Oh, come ! oh, come ! or we shall be late, 
And Autumn will fasten the golden gate. 



POEMS OF VACATION 127 

Of all the schoolrooms in east or west, 
The school of Nature I love the best. 



WIDE AWAKE AND FAST ASLEEP 
(One Side of the Question) 

A blithe Summer Day came out of the east, 

And a rare little lad was he. 
His lips were red from a strawberry feast, 

And his eyes were blue as the sea. 
His yellow hair was blown by the breeze, 

Like grass in a windy place. 
He had torn his jacket in climbing trees, 

And he laughed all over his face. 

He danced in the elm, on the tip-top spray 
Where the nest of the oriole swings, 

Till the birdies had winked the sleep away 
All under their gleaming wings. 



128 FAIRY GOLD 

He shook the stems of the lilies tall, 
While they nodded in soft surprise 

And rubbed with their ringers white and 
small 
The dreams from their golden eyes. 

The daisy hastened to wash her face 

In a drop of the crystal dew, 
And each green leaf of the woodland lace 

The kiss of the sunshine knew. 
The squirrel chattered and combed his tail 

That curls up over his spine, 
And the pinkest clover turned almost pale 

When the village clock struck nine. 

For two little boys in two little beds 

Lay dozing the morning long, 
Though the sun shone in on their tangled 
heads 

And the birds had ended their song. 



POEMS OF VACATION 1 29 

' ' O dear ! O dear ! ' ' sighed the Summer Day, 

"What lazy small boys I see ! 
I wish — I wish they would wake and play 

With a bright little Day like me. " 

THE SUN OUT OF TEMPER 

(The Other Side of the Question) 

"Oh! I say and declare that it's really not 

fair 

For the Day-Star to call me so soon !" 

Cried the Sun, very red, as he jumped out of 

bed 

And made up a face at the Moon. 

So he climbed the blue skies with his thumbs 

in his eyes 

And his hair tumbled over his head, 

And he gave a great yawn in the face of the 

Dawn, 

Which was very bad manners, she said. 
9 



130 FAIRY GOLD 

Then the Sun was ashamed to hear himself 
blamed, 
And being ashamed made him cross. 
So he withered the wheat with his arrows of 
heat 
And trampled the dew from the moss; 
And he fumed and he fussed till the toad in the 
dust 
Did envy the frog in the pool 
And swore he would doat on a pond-lily 
boat 
Much more than a mushroom stool. 



The flowers were faint, the trees made 
complaint, 
And the little leaves teased for a drink, 
But the Sun only stared, for all that he 
cared 
Was to glower with never a wink; 



POEMS OF VACATION I3I 

Till it happened one day that the World went 
away, 
The World and his Wife to remain 
A week and no more with their Aunt by the 
shore. 
Said the Sun : " It is time for a rain. " 

Said the Sun: "I repent, and my anger is 
spent. 

I must cry seven days at the least. " 
So he tied up his head in a shabby white shred 

That he tore from a cloud in the east. 
From fog thick as cloth he stirred him a broth 

To save him a pain in the side, 
And then he sat down in a dismal gray gown, 

And oh, for the cry that he cried ! 

Sobbed the penitent Sun: " I have only begun. 

I shall shed many tears for the loss 
Of my temper. I '11 shiver and cry like a river, 

I'm so sorry I ever was cross. 



I32 FAIRY GOLD 

But my patience was tried and the cause I'll 
confide, 

That early birds all may take warning, 
For in summer 'tis true my hot temper is due 

To my rising too soon in the morning. " 

SOMEBODY KNOWS 

Hey, for the glint of the wild-brier rose. 
In the cool, green depths of the forest! 

And hey for the haunt that Somebody knows, 
When the noontide sun is sorest! 

Soft through the treetops the south wind goes, 
With footsteps learned of the clouds, suppose; 
And playing at sentry the rose-bay glows 
Amid the ferns of the forest. 

Over their sylvan porticoes 
Squirrels gossip with sleepy crows — 
The only birds that can talk in prose — 
Above the ferns of the forest. 



POEMS OF VACATION 1 33 

The sweet-bay, crushed for a couch, bestows 
Drowsy fragrance, and virtue flows 
From the shadowy pines, till eyelids close 
Amid the ferns of the forest. 

Drop your budget of childish woes 

(The wind, while you dream, will be off with 

those), 
And come where never a thorn tree grows 
Amid the ferns of the forest. 

Hey, for the glint of the wild-brier rose, 
In the cool, green depths of the forest! 

And hey for the haunt that Somebody knows, 
When the noontide sun is sorest! 



THE RIVULET 

Morning in roseate lines 
Glimmers beyond the pines. 



134 FAIRY GOLD 

Blithely the blackbird sings, 
Night on his dusky wings. 
But see ! as he flirts them so, 
"Tis the sunrise glints below, 
And the joy of breaking day 
Rings in his roundelay. 
But bolder, merrier yet, 
The song of the rivulet. 

Mine is the path to the sea. 
Bird and blossom and bee 
Wish me well as I pass. 
Rock and tangle of grass 
Fret my waves as I run. 
Still in shadow and sun 
Onward I flow to be 
One with the silver sea. 

Noon in the azure sky. 
Even the twinkling fly 



POEMS OF VACATION 1 35 

Faints on the violet's lip. 
Low where the alders dip 
Over the brook and lean 
To ruffle the ripples ' sheen, 
A bluebird dreamily croons 
Snatches of sleepy tunes. 
But softer, drowsier yet, 
The song of the rivulet. 

Mine is the path to the sea, etc. 

Sunset flames in the west. 
Flowers are folded to rest. 
The hermit thrushes invoke 
God's peace on the woodland folk, 
While high from the ancient oak, 
Each in his scarlet cloak, 
The tanagers, sparks of fire, 
Vary the vesper choir. 



136 FAIRY GOLD 

But sweeter, holier yet, 
The song of the rivulet. 

Mine is the path to the sea, etc. 



FAIR WEATHER 

The ship had rounded Sandy Hook 

With the blue-eyed peep of day; 
But while full many a joyous look 

Was straining up the bay, 
On the steerage deck together 

A boy and a woman stood, 
Who shrank from the golden weather 

In wildered, waif -like mood. 

She sighed: "This sun is sair to bide, 
These skies are na the same 

As those aboon the Firth o' Clyde 
An' the hills of our island hame. " 



POEMS OF VACATION 1 37 

And the flash of the seagull's feather 
Was one with the creaming foam 

Through her tears for the soft, gray 
weather 
And the brooding mists of home. 

The child laid cheek upon her hand: 

11 Hoots, mither ! dinna greet. 
Had I ae shell frae Arran sand, 

An' a burnie, ripplin' sweet, 
An' bracken an' purple heather 

An' a bittie o' blossomin' thorn, 
I wad mak' ye bonny Scotch weather 

To brichten your heart the morn. " 

That nestling cheek upon her hand, 

It soothed her tears to smiles. 
She leaned out toward the stranger land 

As to her native isles, 



I38 FAIRY GOLD 

And said: "Twa hearts thegether, 
Tho' skies be strange abuve, 

Can mak' their ain gude weather, 
A' out o' tender luve. " 



NUTTING SONG 

Come hither, come hither, O laddies and 
lassies ! 
The daisies have folded their frills, 
But the purple-eyed asters still peep from the 
grasses, 
And the golden-rod shines on the hills. 
Though the tulips have faded, the maples are 
glowing 
With many a marvelous hue, 
And deep in the woods where the brown leaves 
are blowing, 
The chestnuts are waiting for you. 



POEMS OF VACATION 1 39 

We've dreamed of your coming, at even and 
matin ; 
We've dreamed of your coming, at noon; 
In our snug little cradles all cushioned with 
satin, 
While the wind sang our lullaby tune. 
While the wind rocked our cradles, we longed 
for the showers 
And were glad of the sunshine and dew 
That ripened our hearts for the blithe autumn 
hours, 
That sweetened our kernels for you. 

Oh, hither! come hither! for keen the stars 
glistened 
Last night, and the woodlands were 
crossed 
By him for whose step the wych-hazel bush 
listened 
And the barberries waited, — Jack Frost. 



I40 FAIRY GOLD 

He rifled our caskets, the prickle-set caskets, 
And earthward the jewels he threw. 

The squirrels are filling their queer little 
baskets — 
Oh, come! we are waiting for you. 

PLUCKING THE GOOSE 

Robin beneath the barberry bush had turned 

his bill aside 
From the ripest ruby cluster to watch Gray 

Squirrel hide 
An acorn in a garner under fallen leaves that 

spoke 
In rustling whispers each to each of lonely 

Mother Oak; 

When that Old Woman in the skies whose 

hair and robes float loose 
Selected from her cloudy flock the very 

whitest goose, 



POEMS OF VACATION I4I 

And plucked it with such diligence that bits 

of Aping down 
Folded in a feather-quilt the country and the 

town. 

We children hardly stirred that night at 

mamma's candle-kiss, 
Because in dreamland, far away, we heard the 

white goose hiss. 
"Wind and frost!" our elders said, when 

morning came to pass, 
But 'twas the goose whose angry claws had 

scratched the window-glass. 



A WINTER DAY 

The sun shines bright, but stoutly still the 

bitter north winds blow, 
And thin brown leaves in elfin dance go 

whirling: on the snow. 



I42 FAIRY GOLD 

The ruffled bluejay silently peers from a 

naked tree, 
But gaily rings the gallant note of little 

chickadee. 

The grown-ups hug the fireplace and shiver 

when they cast 
Looks over shoulder at the pines that strain 

against the blast. 
The postman, stamping through the drifts, 

meets no one on the road 
But two small boys who bend and pull, 

rejoicing in their load. 

For Baby, tucked all tight and warm within a 

grocery box, 
Claps mites of scarlet-mittened hands to see 

the junco flocks 
Rise with a flirt of feathery white before her 

wagonette. 



POEMS OF VACATION I43 

To her blue eyes this winter world is best of 
playrooms yet. 

OUT TO PLAY 

Wonderful world, 
Bounded by low stone walls; 
Snowdrops curled 
Tight in bonnets and shawls; 
Stump for a throne 
Royally rubied and pearled, 
Moss-overgrown ; 
Beautiful world ! 

Great sycamore, 
Spotted with lichen rust, 
Branches hoar 
Shaken by rainy gust, 
Giant that stands 
Grieving for sins of yore, 



144 FAIRY GOLD 

Wringing his hands; 
Poor sycamore ! 

Scamper of leaves 
After the fairy folk, 
Birchbark sleeves, 
Fringes of frosted cloak, 
Tempting us on 
Races the wild wind weaves, 
To find them gone, 
Fairies and leaves ! 

Under the tread, 

Oh, how the colors push ! 

Rose-twigs red, 

Tangles of burning bush, 

Rag-carpet gay 

With saffron and lilac shred, 

Rainbows at play 

Under the tread ! 



POEMS OF VACATION I45 

Crinkle of ice 

Over the meadow stream 

In a trice 

Melted by sunny gleam ; 

Freeing brown reeds 

Caught in that crystal vise; 

Briers and weeds 

Locked in the ice ! 

Ha, how they dance, 
Withered and twisted and thin ! 
One more chance 
Theirs for a madcap spin ! 
Nothing so old 

That the sun looks at it askance! 
Tatters and gold, 
Whirling in dance ! 

Ware the witch! 

Ware the bramblebush hag ! 
10 



I46 FAIRY GOLD 

Or she'll twitch, 
Twitch you into her bag, 
Squeeze you and cram 
Into a lump of rich 
Blackberry jam! 
Ware the witch ! 

Watch for the three, 
Bluebird, robin and — hark ! 
Kon-quer-ree! 
There he flies like a spark, 
Lord of the swamp, 
Red-shouldered blackbird — see ! 
Off on a romp, 
First of the three ! 

Oh, isn't March 

Merriest month of the year ! 

Blithe and arch, 

Shy and saucy and dear ! 



POEMS OF VACATION I47 

Hide-and-seek 
Playing in alder and larch; 
Pinching the cheek, 
Rogue of a March ! 

THROUGH THE GOLDS AND THE 
GREENS OF SPRING 

Through the golds and the greens of spring, 
The whites and the pinks of May, 

Chasing a bluebird's wing, 
Off on a holiday. 

How lucky the gypsies are 

With holidays all in a row, 
And never a lamp but a star, 

And ever a road to go ! 

Dear oak with a tasseled cap, 
Would you hold it over me while 

I take three winks of a nap, 

For I've traveled almost a mile? 



I48 FAIRY GOLD 

Life is as sweet as a rose, 

And blithe as a bobolink's song, 

And don't you perhaps suppose 
That I'll never again do wrong? 



Poems of Flowers 



149 



A TULIP TEA-PARTY 

Tulips, twenty-lips 
In the glistening grass, 
Elfin ladies at their tea, 
Gossiping of bird and bee 
In the listening grass. 

Don't tell [don't tell! 

But my shining cup 

Was filled with gold by Neighbor Sun, 

And they say before the Spring is done 

He will drink it up. 

Tulips, twenty-lips 

'Neath the bending oak 

Straining all his buds to hear 

Tulip voices fine and clear, 

Old, befriending oak. 

151 



152 FAIRY GOLD 

Don't tell! don't tell! 

Why my cup is red. 

Hush! let's whisper. It was Sir 

Flaming Scarlet-Tanager, 

And a plume he shed. 

Tulips, twenty-lips 
In the swaying wind 
Ever bowing, tiptoeing 
With a note-book under wing, 
That betraying wind! 

Don't tell! don't tell! 

Touch my petal — so! 

This my teacup, seafoam-white, 

Lady Moon filled up last night 

With a dream of snow. 

Tulips, twenty-lips, 
While the birds fly over, 
Chattering and taking tea, 



POEMS OF FLOWERS 1 53 

Never guessing that to me 
Tulip words fly over ! 

Don't tell Bluebell! 
Don't tell Bobolink! 
But the Baby, toddling by, 
Kissed my cup, and that is why 
Tm so sweet and pink. 

DAFFYDOWNDILLIES 

Daffydowndillies are not lilies, 

Lilies angel- white, 
But they catch the stars that the thunder 
jars 

From the coronet of night. 

Daffydowndillies are not lilies, 

Easter lilies tall, 
But their hearts have won the smile of the 
sun, 

And butterflies come to call. 



154 FAIRY GOLD 

Daffydowndillies are not lilies. 

Would that I were you ! 
But since I'm not, I will love my lot, 

And make it lovely, too. 



WITCHCRAFT 

There's a witchcraft in the May, 

Bluebirds say, 

For 'tis then the pansies wise 

Give the garden a surprise 

By changing into ranging butterflies. 

Who has seen them, wing on wing, 

Fluttering, 

Purple, orange, lilac, brown, 

On the road to Rainbow Town, 

Where the petal -people love to settle do.vn? 

Should you meet them, do not snap 
Off your cap 



POEMS OF FLOWERS 1 55 

With a prisoner in view ; 

Leave them to the air and dew, 

Else the garden will not lightly pardon you. 

THE RAINBOW PATH 

The rain it rained a weary while, 

But when the clouds took flight, 
The setting sun flashed back a smile. 

(Good-night, dear sun, good-night!) 
And from the far horizon's breast 
An arching rainbow sprang to rest 
Its hither tip on mountain crest, 

A bridge of colors seven. 
Rainbow, 
I know 

Thou art the path to Heaven. 

The flowers that laughed by April rills 
And made the summer bright 

Have vanished from the autumn hills. 
(Good-night, dear sun, good-night!) 



I56 FAIRY GOLD 

For blossom-spirits fresh and fair 
Are wafted by the gentle air 
To bloom above in beauty rare 
And weave the colors seven. 
Rainbow, 
I know 
Thou art the path to Heaven. 



And when along that gleaming way 

We fare in sandals white 
Beyond the golden gates of day, 

(Good-night, dear sun, good-night !) 
We'll love the blossoms as we go 
The more because on earth below 
They lit the fields, ere called to glow 

Within the colors seven. 
Rainbow, 
I know 

Thou art the path to Heaven. 



POEMS OF FLOWERS 1 57 

SANDALPHON'S ROSEBUDS 

In the herald hush of even, 

Spent with ecstasy of praising, 
From the starry gate of heaven 

Angels twain were earthward gazing, 
And their speech, each to each, 

Was a wordless music-flow ; 
And the love-light of their eyes 
Thrilled the sunset-colored skies 

To a clearer glow. 

Hush ! they cease their soft conferring, 

Rapt in looks of gladsome greeting, 
For the lower air is stirring 

Under wings of ample beating; 
And behold ! plumed with gold 

Mounts Sandalphon, he who bears 
Mystic blossoms to the throne, 
Blossoms that on earth are known 

As the breath of prayers. 



I58 FAIRY GOLD 

Swift they scan with earnest glances 

All his sheaf from twilight hour, 
Lilies white of saintly trances, 

Sorrow's purple passion-flower; 
But they smile softly while 

Close against his heart they see 
Dewy rosebuds, gathered where 
Children lift the voice of prayer 

At a mother's knee; 

Prayers of childish faith, confiding 

In the Gentle Shepherd's keeping, 
Asking for His daily guiding, 

For His watch above their sleeping, 
Rosebud prayers the angel bears 

Tenderly past stars and suns 
Unto Him who loveth these 
Shy, enfolded fragrances, 

Lord of little ones. 



Poems of Fur and Feathers 



159 



GRANDSIRE SQUIRREL GRAY 

Grandsire Squirrel Gray- 
Is a millionaire of nuts ; 
And when the snow begins to blow, 
His castle door he shuts. 
Behind that door, they say, 
Lord of the hollow tree, 
He dwells in the dark, a patriarch 
With all his family, — 

Shadow-Tail and Leafy-Veil, 
Bead-Eyes, Cracker, Hush, 
Treetop-Leaper, Treasure-Keeper, 
Crunch-in-a-Crolch and Plush. 

The oak is mother-of-pearl, 

Frosted on trunk and limb, 

An icy trapeze for the chickadees, 

But what is that to him? 
ii 161 



162 FAIRY GOLD 

So his tail has room to curl 

Up over his furry back, 

And his hickories last till winter's past, 

What may a squirrel lack? 

But the seeds are crisp and sweet 

In the cones on the snowy pine ; 

There are berries red as a woodpecker's head 

At a club where he likes to dine ; 

So forth on scampery feet 

Goes Grandsire Squirrel Gray, 

And his family wonder what forest plunder 

Will come home in his cheeks to-day, — 

For Scud and Run-the-Rail, 
Wary, Bask-in-the-Sun, 
Chir-Chir-Chir and Bite-a-Burr, 
Pelt-you-with-Shells-for-Fun . 

Into his hole of holes 

He plunges down pell-mell 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 63 

With a speed that vouches for empty pouches, 

And Grandam scolds him well; 

But over the acorn bowls 

What glorious table-talk 

Of skurry-escape from the swooping shape 

Of a fierce, red-shouldered hawk ! 



Of the dash to the nearest stump, 

Of the ambushed foe beneath, 

Of the breathless rush through the underbrush 

In front of a fox's teeth ! 

And how the small hearts thump, 

And glitters each round black eye, 

While the baffled fox tries all the locks, 

And the hawk screams up the sky, 

Scaring Tease-a- Snail, 

Spry and Rustle and Puck, 

Drink-the-Dew and Whisk and Whew, 

Live-by-his-Wits and Luck. 



1 64 FAIRY GOLD 

When the terrible wings of the storm 

Buffet the shuddering trees, 

On cushion of moss with his legs across, 

Grandsire takes his ease. 

In the midst of his family, warm 

As a chestnut in its burr, 

What does he care for the stinging air, 

Or the burden that breaks the fir ? 

Though hungry woodpeckers drum 

On his oak, and nuthatches play 

At acrobat in the boughs, what's that 

To dozy Grandsire Gray ? 

The chatterers all are dumb, 

For under a leafy spread 

Each squirrelkin is at rest within 

A pine-needle trundle-bed, — 

Twinkle and Give-you-Hail, 

Sit-on-a- Fence and Flirt, 

Gnaw-the-Rind and Race-with-the-Wind, 

Peep-through-the-Green and Pert. 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 65 

When the Angel of Winter Sleep 

Through the white wood passes slow, 

Whispering the dream of spring 

And tucking close the snow, 

She will smile to find in this deep 

Tree-hollow a cuddle of fur, 

Every squirrel at rest with little paws 

pressed 
On a heart that trusts in her. 



LITTLE SHADOWTAIL 

Where the ancient oak droops over 
Dewy tufts of grass and clover, 

Through its blowing leafy sprays 

Sifting light in careless rays, 
Like a spendthrift dropping gold 
From his loose, regardless hold, 

Let me pause and bid all hail 

Unto little Shadowtail. 



1 66 FAIRY GOLD 

Whist ! just where the kingbird dips, 
Spreading wide the proud white tips 
Of its fanlike tail, — just there, 
Framed within his doorway fair, 
Buttercups before it strown, 
Cloth of gold, and overgrown 
With those curly fronds for veil, 
Sitteth little Shadowtail. 

Would no humbler mansion suit, 
But within the gnarly root 
Of this hoar, historic tree, 
Thou must gossip with the bee, 
Peering through the screening ferns 
At thy neighbors' wee concerns, 
And upon the stranger rail, 
Shrewish little Shadowtail? 

Once beneath this storied oak 
Eliot his message spoke, 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 67 

And the Red Men, clustered round, 
Knew this earth for holy ground, 

Wondering at the words divine. 

Was some curious sire of thine 
Mocking then the preacher pale 
From thy threshold, Shadow tail? 

He the sermon deemed, methinks, 
Dull beside the bobolinks. 

Tis an old, old quarrel, that. 

Could I take thy squirrel-chat, 
And thine ears receive my wit, 
Wisely would we argue it; 

Yet shall mighty Truth prevail 

Without me or Shadowtail. 



PETERKIN 

The crown of cats, who trod as if 
Shod in a moccasin. 



1 68 FAIRY GOLD 

He tested his milk with a delicate sniff, 
He leapt on mice like a hippogriff , 
And no wonder at all that Pendleton 
Thought a shadow had crossed the sun 
When beneath his hand lay cold and stiff 
His Peterkin. 

With folded paws poor pussy lay, 

Mute as a violin 
On which the fiddler forgets to play, 
And his little master to grief gave way. 
"If my other friends should die," wept he, 
" I could bear it, mamma, for I should see 
Them all again in heaven some day. 

—But Peterkin !" 

Who knows? whatever on earth is sweet 

A sweeter life may win 
In the Paradise garden, incomplete 
Without the frolic of creature feet. 
Where our lost birds trill, and our lost dogs wait 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 69 

To welcome us in at the dear home gate, 
Please God, where the loved and the lovingmeet , 
Is Peterkin. 

ROBIN'S SECRET 

'Tis the blithest, bonniest weather for a bird 
to flirt a feather, 
For a bird to trill and warble, all his wee 
red breast a-swell. 
I've a secret. You may listen till your blue 
eyes dance and glisten, 
Little maiden, but I'll never, never, never, 
never tell. 

You'll find no more wary piper, till the straw- 
berries wax riper 
In December than in June — aha ! all up and 
down the dell, 

Where my nest is set, for certain, with a pink 
and snowy curtain, 



170 FAIRY GOLD 

East or west, but which I'll never, never, 
never, never tell. 

You may prick me with a thistle, if you ever 
hear me whistle 
How my brooding mate, whose weariness 
my carols sweet dispel, 
All between the clouds and clover, apple- 
blossoms drooping over, 
Twitters low that I must never, never, 
never, never tell. 

Oh, I swear no closer fellow stains his bill in 
cherries mellow. 
Tra la la! and tirra lirra! I'm the jaun- 
tiest sentinel, 
Perched beside my jewel-casket, where lie 
hidden — don't you ask it, 
For of those three eggs I'll never, never, 
never, never tell. 



FUR AND FEATHERS 171 

Chirp! chirp! chirp! alack! for pity! Who 
hath marred my merry ditty? 
Who hath stirred the scented petals, peeping 
in where robins dwell ? 
Oh, my mate! May Heaven defend her! 
Little maidens' hearts are tender, 
And I never, never, never, never, never 
meant to tell. 



ON A RAMBLE 

Come ! come ! come ! 

Follow, lad, with me 
On behind the stirring drum 

Of Captain Bumblebee. 

Hush ! hush ! hush ! 

Finger on the lip ! 
Between the ferns a tiny thrush 

Goes running — skip, skip, skip. 



172 FAIRY GOLD 

Look ! look ! look ! 

Did ever laddie see 
Softer nest in greener nook 

With birdies one, two, three? 

Nay ! nay ! nay ! 

Curly-headed thief ! 
If we steal the brood away, 

Who will heal the grief ? 

Hear ! hear ! hear 

The poor brown mother's cries ! 
Now blessings on the gentle tear 

That dims my laddie's eyes ! 

Come ! come ! come ! 

Not one wee heart shall ache 
In any humblest woodland home 

For mine or laddie's sake. 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 73 

A MUSIC-LESSON 

Squeakity-squeak in the poplar trees. 

Such a comical little wheeze ! 

But Father Thrush from mellow throat 

Flutes again his forest-note 

That hushes every breeze. 



To that melody of melodies 
An echo comes like a feathered sneeze. 
How can the Hermit Thrushes dote 
On such a beak ! 



But Mother Thrush lets no one tease. 
She puts her Thrushlet at his ease 
With a taste of the plumpest fly afloat. 
Then the little breast begins to' bloat, 
And he pipes, as proudly as you please, 
Squeakity-squeak. 



174 FAIRY GOLD 

THE BIRD HOTEL 

From fall to spring 

y Tis a little thing 
To spread the birds good cheer 

On a window tray, 

Where the heart may play 
At summer all the year. 

Nuts, if you please, 

For the chickadees, 
— Never mind about napkins and cruet- 

But they'll doff you, perhaps, 

Their cozy black caps 
For a lump of delectable suet. 

An elegant guest 

In white dinner-vest 
May put them to flutter and flight, 

For though Nuthatch says dank, 

Intended for thank, 
No chickadee calls him polite. 



FUR AND FEATHERS 1 75 

A superior throne 

Is a marrow-bone 
For a woodpecker potentate, 

Since seldom can kings 

Eat the cushions and things 
That embellish their chairs of state. 

The blue jay will seize 

On fragments of cheese 
Like a story-book pirate on gold, 

But nothing comes ill 

To his catholic bill, 
Though his blessing sounds more like a scold. 

A salad of seed 

Tree-sparrow may lead 
To your table, when stripped is his thicket, 

Or fox-sparrow fine 

Whom your dainties incline 
To forfeit his Florida ticket. 



I76 FAIRY GOLD 

Junco trustfully comes 
For a feast of crumbs, 

Our snow-bird in storm-coat drest, 
All white below, 
For they say, who know, 

God painted her on her nest. 

And if courtesy sends 
Them odds and ends 

From your own plate for variety, 
The bows and bends 
Of your feathery friends 

Would grace the best society. 

To spring from jail 

Keep open hall, 
And the birds will teach each care 

That winter brings 

The way of wings , 
Escaping up the air. 



Poems of Little People 



177 



BABY BETH 

Roguish brown-eyed glances, 

That's our Baby Beth. 
Gypsy-shy advances, 

That's our Baby Beth. 
Quaintest little fancies 

Ever borne on breath, 
Frolic-footed dances, 

That's our Baby Beth. 

Sunshine-tinted tresses, 
That's our Baby Beth. 

Dainty bits of dresses, 
That's our Baby Beth. 

Fearless little guesses 
Into life and death, 

Roseleaf -lipped caresses, 

That's our Baby Beth. 
179 



180 FAIRY GOLD 

BABY'S BAGGAGE 

The train is ready. Come away 

And let your labor cease. 
Mama has packed three trunks to-day, 

Papa, his new valise. 
But as for Little Golden- Locks, 
She only packed a chatterbox. 

The baggage-master touched a cap 
With shining letters decked, 

And so to guard from all mishap, 
The bag and trunks he checked ; 

But never stayed for Golden-Locks, 

Nor counted in the chatterbox. 

A new official sauntered soon 

In slippers down the cars, 
Who softly hummed a drowsy tune. 

His badge was wrought in stars. 
'Twas Sleep who smiled on Golden-Locks, 
And checked at last the chatterbox. 



POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE l8l 

AT RECESS 

Little voices all out of chime, 

A sudden quarrel that mars the play. 

"Now," quoth the teacher, "now's our time 
To practise that Golden Rule we say. " 

But the tiniest wean in all the school 

Lays a rueful face on the teacher's knee. 

"Isn't there any Silver Rule? 
That Golden Rule's too hard for me." 

THE MEASURING ROD 

Over the clover the fairies their gossamer 

carpets had spread, 
A-sprinkle with twinkle of diamonds from 

their dancing slippers shed, 
When two little lads from the city went 

scampering down to the lake, 
Astonished to find how early the green world 

comes awake. 



1 82 FAIRY GOLD 

The finches were inches of glory, the tanagers 

burning arrows, 
And mellow the yellow-throats whistle; the 

boys took them all for sparrows, 
But breathed the joy of the morning, and 

raced with bounds and springs, 
As if their heels, like Mercury's, were finished 

off with wings. 

On the blue of the lake the lilies, their white 

dreams hardly done, 
Were cups of light. "What a jolly sight!" 

cried Hal, the jurist's son, 
But the heir of the multi-millionaire shook a 

head so wise and blond : 
"They'd look nicer put in vases than scattered 

on a pond." 

Then Johnny the bonny added, with a calcu- 
lating: air: 



POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE 1 83 

"I say, I wonder how far it is to those lilies 

over there." 
And a hidden turtle nudged her mate, while, 

grave as an eight-day clock, 
Hal answered in his father's tone: "Not 

more than half a block." 



THE BARBERRY BABY 

Did you ever, ever chance to see 

A barberry muffled in snow? 
So red was the face turned up to me 

From a little white hood I know. 

So glowing red was each round cheek ! 

So red were the pouting lips ! 
Would the words be frozen they tried to 
speak? — 

11 My sled ! It slips. It slips. " 



1 84 FAIRY GOLD 

I have heard of a land so cold, so cold, 
That words would stand on the air 

Spelled out in ice, but I'm not so bold 
As to say I ever was there. 

But these rode warm in a wrathful wail, 
For not all the wind that nips 

Could sting this Mite like having to fail: 
" My sled ! It slips. It slips. " 

You could never, never guess it true, 

Though you guessed with a wit and a will, 

What the Barberry Baby was trying to do: 
She was trying to coast up hill. 



HOME FROM SCHOOL 

Home from the very first day of school 

Came Wee- Wee, aged five, 
And already she'd learned enough to befool 

The wisest parents alive. 



POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE 1 85 

"Now I understand every things, 

Everythings only two. " 
They prepared to smile at her questionings, 

As grown-ups commonly do. 

" Where'd God find the stuff to begin the world, 
And how did He get Himself started? " 

The father his fork on his finger twirled; 
The mother's mute lips were parted. 

That their Baby, whose coo was but just made 
chatter, 

Should pose all humankind 
By asking what was the source of matter 

And the origin of mind ! 

REBECCA AND ABIGAIL 

When the Clans of the Open Hand convene 

And our valors are rehearsed, 
Remember the year eighteen-] 'out -teen 

And our proud September first. 



1 86 FAIRY GOLD 

When ye write the roll of our heroes down, 

Oh, be not the deed ignored 
Of two little heroines, bonny and brown, 

Whose wit was sharp as a sword. 

Careless she sat in the lighthouse door, 

Lass of the laughing lip, 
When there hove in sight off the Scituate 
shore 

The sails of a British ship. 
Rebecca Bates was the merriest maid 

Between Cape Cod and Cape Ann, 
But her quick breath sobbed, for, old fears 
allayed, 

The post had never a man. 

Over her shoulder Abigail peered 

With the soft brown eyes of their race, 

And the sisters watched as the frigate neared 
And anchored against the place 



POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE 187 

Where guards had been stationed till yes- 
tere'en, 

But now had no garrison more 
Than the keeper's wife with her gentle mien. 

And the girls in the lighthouse door. 

The work-worn mother, all unaware 

Of the blow about to fall, 
Dozed in her faded rocking-chair, 

While the kitten teased the ball 
That had rolled from her knitting, and not 
until 

Two barges in stealthy guise 
Put off from the ship, had the girls a will 

To waken those weary eyes. 

Then her dream was pierced by the shrilling fife 
And crushed by the rolling drum. 

She swayed to her feet : " O Lord of Life, 
Is the hour of bloodshed come?" 



1 88 FAIRY GOLD 

White she sprang to the empty door 
And saw how the redcoats, stayed 

By that martial note, had poised the oar, 
Mistrusting an ambuscade. 

A sullen gun from the ship warned back 

The boats, and with hurried stroke 
They traversed again that foaming track 

To the shelter of British oak, 
While Yankee Doodle rang out the fife, 

And the drum was calling to arms 
As if mustering men for desperate strife 

From a hundred rebel farms. 

Murmured the goodwife: "God be praised!" 
And next: "But how shall I feed 

This patriot army Thou hast raised 
To succor us in our need? " 

Then around the corner, as large as life, 
She saw that army come, — 



POEMS OF LITTLE PEOPLE 1 89 

Laughing Rebecca who waved the fife, 
And Abigail with the drum. 



LITTLE TOM A BECKET 

Our Christian world was less twelve centuries 
old 
When little Tom a Becket proudly sat in 
His mother's lap and, worth his weight in 
gold, 
Prattled to her in Norman-French and 
Latin. 

His weight in gold? "Nay, dearer yet," she 
said, 
Kissing the rosy face, "my precious sonny 
Is worth his weight in good white wheaten 
bread, 
Pasties and cheese and saffron cakes and 
honey." 



190 FAIRY GOLD 

The merchant father stroked a forked beard 

And stooped long rows of figures to examine, 

But sweet Dame Becket mused on cheeks 

endeared 

To other mothers, — cheeks that paled for 

famine. 

So every birthday would she weigh her lad 
Against a great brass scale with food o'er- 
flowing, 
While the hungry folk of London crowded 
glad 
About the gates and blessed the boy for 
growing. 

And Tom a Becket, in his school-gown quaint, 
Would give the loaves, with greeting shy 
and merry, 

Nor ever dreamed he was to be a saint 
And have a glorious shrine in Canterbury. 



Nonsense Verses 



191 



HUDSON'S CAT 

" This night our cat ranne crying from one side of 
the ship to the other, looking overboord, which made 
us to wonder; but we saw nothing." — JueVs Journal. 

What did you see, O pussy-cat-mew, 
Pet of the Half -Moon's turbulent crew? 
Who taught them mew-tiny ? Wasn't it you ? 



Juet kept journal of storm and fog 

And the mermaid that set them all agog, 

But what has become of the cat-a-log? 



Henry Hudson, the master sage, 
Writ large his name on history's page, 
But you, you too, were a purr-sonage. 

13 193 



194 FAIRY GOLD 

Shall the tale slight you, whose tail was 

a-quiver 
As you and Hudson sailed up the river 
Made only his by Time the giver? 

Why did you take to adventuring, 

Puss-illanimous fireside thing? 

What was the cargo you hoped to bring? 

Did you dream of multitudinous mice 
Running about the Isles of Spice 
In a paradoxical Paradise ? 

Were you not homesick where monsters swam, 
Dolorous dolphin and clamorous clam, 
For your sunny stoop in Amsterdam ? 

Months at sea, while the billows roared, 
And the Milky Way not a cupful poured ; 
No wonder Tabby looked over-bored. 



NONSENSE VERSES 1 95 

You had your feelin's, as felines go, 
Poor little puss. What scared you ;o? 
O stupid sailors that didn't know ! 

Was it a dogfish struck the spark 

From your sea-green eyes with the quaint 

remark 
That you were sailing upon a bark? 

Millions of happy pussies fall 

Into oblivion; still. you call 

From the top of your ancient eater-wall, 

Call on the centuries to concur 

In praise of Tabby the Mariner, 

Who discovered the Catskills, named for her. 

DON'T YOU SEA? 

The day was hotter than words can tell, 
— So hot the jelly-fish wouldn't jell. 



I96 FAIRY GOLD 

The halibut went all to butter, 

And the cat-fish had only force to utter 

A faint sea-mew, — ay, though some have 

doubted, 
The carp he carped and the horn-pout pouted. 

The sardonic sardine had his sly heart's wish 
When the angel-fish fought with the Paradise- 
fish. 

'Twas a sight gave the blue-fish the blues to see, 
But the seal concealed a wicked glee. 

The day it went from bad to worse 

Till the pickerel picked the purse-crab's purse, 

And that crab felt crabbeder yet, no doubt, 
Because the oyster wouldn't shell out. 

The sculpin would sculp, but hadn't a model, 
And the cod-fish begged for something to 
coddle, 



NONSENSE VERSES I97 

But to both the dolphin refused its doll, 

Till the whale was obliged to whale them all. 



FIRST NIGHT IN THE COUNTRY 

"You call this a lake?" asked the sociable 

dog, 
Easing his watch by a chat with the frog. 

"I call it my bathing-tub. " 
And the frog, a-squat on a moist cool stone, 
Replied politely in soothing tone 

With the monosyllable: "Blub." 

"You call this a lake?" rattled Kingfisher. 

"Pish! 
Can't you see it is only my kettle of fish? " 

But he fell asleep in his shrub 
Before the frog, with an accent bland 
And the manner of those who understand, 

Had finished responding: "Blub. " 



I98 FAIRY GOLD 

" You call this a lake? Look out if you do. 
Whip-poor-will ! " rang themidnight through. 

" Now what do you call it, bub ? " 
The challenge cracked like a sudden whip, 
But unconcerned by that censorship 

The frog suggested: "Blub. " 

"You call this a lake ? " scoffed the Lady Moon. 
"'Tis my silver mirror, you green buffoon. " 

She intended this for a snub, 
But the frog only rolled his goggle-eyes 
Up toward her balcony in the skies 

And gallantly answered: "Blub." 

I have slept through bells from a rocking spire, 
Through engine whistles and cries of Fire, 

Through toot and rub-a-dub-dub, 
But I could not sleep through the dialogue 
Of the folk of the dark with Wiseman Frog, 

And his imperturbable "Blub." 



NONSENSE VERSES 1 99 

THE VOYAGE OF THE LILY-PAD 

'Twas a freckled laddie his friends call Paddy 

Made a boat of a lily-pad 
By tying a string to the flat green thing 

In a wise little way he had. 

A bee was chosen to bee the boatswain, 
And we named him Captain Kidd, 

For he shone with gold like a pirate bold 
Nor told where his hoard was hid. 

He sharpened his dagger with glorious swagger 
(He was after the swag, you know) 

And our blood ran cold while he fiercely trolled 
A rumbe-rumbelow. 

Our craft was a ripper, and such a skipper 

Ought to have made it hum, 
But that foolish ship would double and dip 

Till the equilibrium 



200 FAIRY GOLD 

Of bumptious Bumble was lost in a tumble 

Indecorous on the deck, 
While Paddy laughed so, he let the string go, 

And the Lily- Pad went to wreck. 

But safe and chipper out skipped the skipper 

To the sign of the Clover Ball, 
Where after a glass of honey, "Alas ! " 

He buzzed, "That a bee should fall 

To a naughty career in a nautical sphere ! 

But the fault it wasn't in me, 
For unless I forget my alphabet, 

A B must go to C." 

OUT OF FASHION 

The buds are putting off their furs 

And coming out in silk, 
Pinks and pearls and lavenders, 

Laces white as milk. 



NONSENSE VERSES 201 

But here is one who will — oh ! 

Whatever gossips say, 
Commit the peccadillo 

Of having her own way. 

'Tis Pussy cuddles in her furs, 

Though skies are bright and blue; 

Basking in the sun, she purrs 
As happy catkins do. 

For she is one who still, oh! 

Though all the wood demurs, 
Wayward Pussy Willow, 

Keeps cozy in her furs. 

THE OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS 

Said the Old Man of the Mountains 
To his white-capped goblin-wife: 

" Have you fed the glacier fountains, 
Dame Trouble-of-my-Life ? 



202 FAIRY GOLD 

Here is a horn, a Silverhorn, 

A Matterhorn of snow, 
Go feed the glacier fountains' ' — 

And he laughed to see her go. 

There he sits, the lazy fellow, 

Whose pipe puffs out the mist, 
The King of the Gnomes, a yellow, 

Hunch-shouldered humorist, 
Chuckling to watch his old dame there, 

In her hood and mantle dim, 
Keeping the Alps in good repair, 

Doing his work for him. 



Poems of Fairies 



203 



SLUMBER FAIRIES 

Hush, my little one! Hush! Lie down. 

Mamma will sing, — 
Sing of a boy in a wee white gown, 
Sing of a king with a golden crown, 
A crown of curls on a sweet, small head, 
And a throne as high as a trundle-bed. 

Dear little king ! 

Hush, my baby ! a song I know 

Softer than all, — 
A song as soft as the falling snow, 
And I will sing it so light and low, 
Baby must listen and lie as still 
As the snowflakes lie on the quiet hill, 

Where they fall. 

Does baby know, when the day grows late, 

Chilly and dim, 
205 



206 FAIRY GOLD 

The slumber fairies, who stand and wait 
Out in the lane and beyond the gate, 
Pass over the lawn and open the door 
And steal across the nursery floor, 
Looking for him ? 

Such tiny fairies, with slippers white 

Over their feet. 
Their cloaks are gray as the early night, 
But their caps are lit with a silver light, 
As if a moonbeam were caught, perhaps, 
And cut up small into fairy caps 

Dainty and neat. 

Up the side of the trundle-bed 

Softly they go, 
And over the pillow with gentle tread 
They come to the golden baby-head. 
Under his lashes he tries to peep, 
But before he knows, he is fast asleep. 

Isn't it so? 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 207 

For they bind the baby with fairy charms 

Wondrous to tell. 
They loose the clasp of the dimpled arms, 
And smooth his forehead with soft, small 

palms, 
And draw their cloaks o'er his drowsy ears, 
Till a fairy music is all he hears, 

Pleasing him well. 

They shade his eyes with a little dream. 

Where did it grow? 
It grew by the side of the fairy stream, 
Where baby wandereth now, I deem, 
With the slumber-fairies to guide his feet. 
Good-night, dear laddie! Your rest be sweet! 

Mamma must go. 

FAIRY'S LULLABY 

In lily cup I'll nest me, 
From fairy dance to rest me, 



208 FAIRY GOLD 

For the silver moon 
Dips low, and soon 
Would the goblins swart molest me. 

But never a gnome will mock me, 
Nor peering toad-face shock me, 

While the wind-elf blithe 

Stands on tiptoe lithe 
By the lily's stem to rock me; 

And the star-sprites lean above me, 
For all the star-sprites love me ; 

In circle fair 

Each holds in air 
His small gold torch above me. 

Come, soft-winged Sleep, and kiss me, 
For the dream-land fairies miss me, 

Till thy sweet, cool lips 

Part the folded tips 
Of my lily-couch to kiss me. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 209 

But when thy spells unbind me 
The sunbeams shall not find me, 

And my dreamy nest 

Be only guessed 
By the fragrance left behind me. 



FAIRY RIP VAN WINKLE 

His acorn cradle with fern and moss 

Elf mamma had covered over, 
And then had forgotten the path across 

The blossoming field of clover. 
For she was the wildest of all wee things, 
And loved to dance in the moonlight 

rings, 
Or steal her a ride on butterfly wings, — 
A genuine gypsy rover! 
Streams flow, 
Buds blow, 



210 FAIRY GOLD 

Stars peep out and twinkle. 

Still deep 

Thy sleep, 
Fairy Rip van Winkle ! 

But he woke one day and with drowsy 
eyes 
Smiled into a dewy bubble 
On his cradle edge; then in swift surprise 

Cried out in a voice of trouble : 
"O mamma, mamma, I don't look right, 
My cobweb nightie has grown so tight; 
My buttercup curls are daisy white; 
And over my eyebrows double 
What's this 
Cross-criss 
Funny little wrinkle?" 
Long gazed, 
Amazed, 
Fairy Rip van Winkle. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 211 

For his nap in the acorn had lasted till 

A new oak forest had sprouted, 
And the elves had vanished from mead and rill, 

By the schoolbook army routed. 
And the ancient baby, whose eyes could see 
Never a toadstool spread for tea, 
Nor lullaby-nurse of a honey-bee, 
Put up his lip and pouted. 
But no 
Tiptoe 
Lily bells went tinkle. 
Bye-bye I 
Don't cry, 
Fairy Rip van Winkle I 

THE TROLL 

He was only an ugly Troll, 

And an ugly Troll was he ; 
His eyes were saucers, and his guffaw, sirs, 

Would scare you into the sea. 



212 FAIRY GOLD 

Oh, droll to be a Troll, 

With green pine-needle hair, 
And hoards of jewel stacked up like fuel 

In the hill of Don't-Know-Where. 

He was only a stupid Troll, 

As all the Troll-folk be, 
Sailing a-straddle, his nose for a paddle, 

On a solid gold settee. 

Oh, droll to be a Troll, 

And never so much as mind 
Gravitation or botheration 

Or the witch that rides the wind. 



But he was a merry Troll, 

With a harp against his knee, 
And when he played it, all things obeyed it, 

A-capering for glee. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 2I3 

Oh y droll to be a Troll, 

And sail and sail and sail 
Over your troubles like dancing bubbles 

To your home in a fairy-tale. 



BABY HAZEL'S VOYAGE 

King Nod, King Nod, the drowsy god, is 

such an idle fellow, 
He sleeps away the livelong day, while yet 

the sun is yellow ; 
But when the sinking sun is red and robin's 

song is failing, 
'Tis time for him to rub his dim old eyes and 

go a-sailing. 

His moonshine boat is soon afloat; a glow- 
worm serves for pilot ; 

On silver oars they graze the shores of many 
a starry islet; 



214 FAIRY GOLD 

In silver sails they catch the winds, and down 

the cloudy billows 
Full fast they ride before the tide to Baby 

Hazel's pillows. 

"Ahoy, sweet maid! Now art afraid, with 

Old King Nod for skipper, 
To sail the deep and drink sweet sleep from 

yonder golden dipper? 
Aboard, aboard, my dainty lass! aboard my 

silver vessel ! 
And thou shalt see, in dream-land tree, the 

little dream-birds nestle. " 

She bowed — ah me! — her rosy knee, and 
kissed the old king's scepter. 

Unto his breast the child he pressed and down 
the darkness swept her. 

Oh, frail the skiff, the silver skiff! O Hazel 
Eyes, take warning! 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 215 

On Sunrise Reef 'twill come to grief. Good- 
night, good-night — good-morning ! 



BONNY'S BIRTHDAY 

Bonny, my Bonny, sleeps well to-night. 

(Dear is sleep when the day is done.) 
Soon shall the eastern skies be bright, 

And a birthday dawn with the dawning sun. 

How many years has my Bonny seen? 

How many years since she strayed from 
Heaven ? 
Seven times since have the woods grown green, 

And the snows have fallen seasons seven. 

Lies the lassie in artless grace, 
Soft hair curling in golden rings, 

Fair the light on her sleeping face 

As shed from an angel's shielding wings. 



2l6 FAIRY GOLD 

Bonny smiles in her dream's delight, 

(Blithe are dreams when the heart is pure), 

Till the rosy dimples come to sight, 
Lost so long in the cheek demure. 

What do the dreaming eyes behold? 

Lend us your spectacles, Old King Nod. 
Just one peep through the rims of gold. 

Bless my buttons ! But this is odd. 

Is it a shaft of the yellow moon, 
Slanting in at the window-glass, 

Or a sheeny road, where the twinkling shoon 
Of gossamer-skirted fairies pass ? 

Martial music salutes the ear. 

(Sweet is the beat of elfin drums) , 
And seven small knights come riding here 

Out of the Land of Sugarplums. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 217 

Bonny laughs in her childish dream. 

Each little knight on a candy steed 
In haughty helm of chocolate cream 

O'er the moonbeam rides with speed. 



Ho, Little Knights in frosted mail, 

Luck to the cinnamon swords you wield ! 

Never may hostile lance prevail 

Against the pride of peppermint shield! 

Fast they ride down the moonlight ray, 
(Smooth is the road that leads to love), 

Wee knights seven, gallant and gay, 
With a popcorn standard borne above. 

With melting hearts on their quest they ride, 
Drawing the rein at the ringlets sunny. 

"Ah!" cries one, " for so sweet a bride 

Would I shed my knightly blood like honey." 



2l8 FAIRY GOLD 

Yet they turn their candy steeds and sigh. 

Was ever a dream so queer as this ? 
And each little knight, as he waves good-bye, 

Drops on the pillow a sugar kiss. 



Bonny wakes with the blushing east, 
(Glad is waking when sleep was kind), 

But never a knight to her birthday feast 
From Sugarplum Land has stayed behind. 

Yet far though the little sweethearts bide 
In Caramel Castle and sigh their fill, 

On Bonny's pillow at morningtide 
The candy kisses are lying still, 

As the wee knights left them yestere'en, 

A dainty record in kisses seven 
Of the years that my Bonny's eyes have seen, 

Happy years since she strayed from Heaven. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 219 

THE WISHING-CAP 

A little maid stole to a moonlight knoll, 

In the fairy ring to tread ; 
But the dancing fays had gone their ways 

And a gnome was there instead. 

" Brown gnome, please lend me your wishing- 
cap." 
He snatched off his small, green hood 
And tossed it to her. "Many thanks, kind 
sir; 
You are certainly very good. 

"Seven times one! And what shall I 
wish?" 
The gnome sat down on a thistle, 
With his peaked red shoon pointed up to the 
moon, 
And practiced an elfin whistle. 



220 FAIRY GOLD 

"I wish and I wish and I wish and I wish 

That you were as rich as I, 
Little brown gnome, for I've pennies at home, 

And I don't know what to buy. 

11 I wish and I wish and I wish and I wish 
My heart were a wild-rose brier, 

Where the bell- voiced veery when day grows 
weary, 
Leads off the vesper choir. 

" I wish my heart were a forest brook 
A-ripple with sunshiny laughter, 

Where to quench their thirst shy deer come 
first 
And the pattering rabbits after. 

"I wish my heart were a golden star 

That guides over creamy foam 
The shimmering sails through whistling gales 

To the harbor lights of home. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 221 

" I wish my heart were a blade of grass, 

Where Katydids all a-row 
Tilt in the sun, singing high deeds done 

Of Katydids long ago. 

"I wish my heart were a rosy cloud 

On the sunset edge of even, 
That tenderly bears the children's prayers 

Through the open doors of Heaven. 

11 1 wish my heart were as large, as large, 

As large as the dome-like skies, 
There's so much to love, from God above 

To the little gossamer flies. " 

Then the lassie gave back the small green 
hood 

And curtsied to the gnome, 
And the lilies sweet caressed her feet, 

As the glow-worms lit her home. 



222 FAIRY GOLD 

The gnome dived under the hard, gray rocks 
To the land where the gnome-folk dwell ; 

A land of gold and jewels untold, 
Hard by the gates of hell. 

But while he sate in his wishing-cap 
On the throne in his diamond castle, 

Squeaked his wee brown wife, in a voice like a 
fife: 
"Why ! there's a tear on the tassel I" 

And never a pearl rom the Indian seas, 

Nor emerald cold and clear, 
Shed such a light through those caves of night 

As the little gnome-king's tear. 

THE LITTLE KNIGHT IN GREEN 

What fragrant-footed comer 
Is stepping o'er my head? 

Behold my Queen, the Summer, 
Who deems her warriors dead ! 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 223 

Now rise, ye knights of many fights, 
From out your sleep profound! 

Make sharp your spears, my gallant peers, 
And prick the frozen ground ! 

Before the White Host harm her, 

We'll hurry to her aid. 
We'll don our elfin armor, 

And every tiny blade 
Shall bear atop a dewy drop, 

The lifeblood of the Frost, 
Till from their King the order ring : 

"Fall back ! the day is lost ! " 

Now shame to knighthood, brothers ! 

Must Summer plead in vain ? 
And shall I wait till others 

My crown of sunshine gain? 
Alone this day I'll dare the fray, 

Alone the victory win. 



224 FAIRY GOLD 

In me my Queen shall find, I ween, 
A sturdy paladin. 

To battle, ho ! King Winter 

Hath rushed on me apace. 
My fragile weapons splinter 

Beneath his icy mace. 
I stagger back. I yield — alack ! 

I fall. My senses pass. 
Woe worth the chance for doughtiest lance 

Of all the House of Grass ! 

Last hope my heart gives over. 

But hark ! a shout of cheer ! 
Don Daisy and Count Clover, 

Sir Buttercup are here. 
Behold! behold! with shield of gold 

Prince Dandelion comes. 
Lord Bumblebee beats valiantly 

His rolling battle-drums. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 225 

My brothers quit their slumbers 

And lead the van of war. 
Before our swelling numbers 

The foes are driven far. 
The day's our own; but overthrown, 

A little knight in green, 
I kiss her feet and deem it sweet 

To perish for my Queen. 



OUR FAMILY CREST 

'Tis I must tell my story quick as ever a 

tongue can spin, 
Because you childer grow so tall that, if I 

don't begin, 
The brown heads and the yellow heads will all 

have shot too high 

To see between the daisy-stems what met the 

laughing eye 
is 



226 FAIRY GOLD 

Of our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Great - 
Grand-mama. 

Here's Willie asks if mermaids were ever 

caught and canned, 
And Dorothy's geography is searched for 

fairyland, 
And, faith! the lass Elizabeth can talk of 

myths as glib 
As if — bad manners to her! — she mistrusted 

of a fib 
Her Great-Great-Great -Great-Great-Great 

Great - Great - Great - Great - Grand - 

mama. 

Now whist ! and let me tell you how long and 

long ago, 
In the blessed isle of Erin, where songs and 

stories blow 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 227 

On all the winds, and tangle with the rushes 
of the thatch, 

Or drop in dew that sweetens the smallest 
praty-patch, 
Lived our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Great - 
Grand-mama. 



A jewel of a tub she had, the color of Queen's 
weather, 

And the bits of duds she soused in it went 
white as seagull feather, 

And when she spread them on the furze, the 
only gold that grew 

About her clay-walled cabin, the sun peeped 
out to view 
Our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Grand - 
mama. 



228 FAIRY GOLD 

Oh, then she dried her shapely hands upon her 
scarlet skirt, 

And emptied out the shining suds and gave 
the broom a flirt 

Across that grand mud floor of hers and took a 
drop of tea 

Or taste of oatmeal stirabout, so well-to-do 
was she, 
Our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Grand - 
mama. 

But heart alive! one Monday when, as many 

a time before, 
She was emptying her tilted tub from her 

elegant front door, 
Out from under the doorstone popped a tiny 

man in green 
And bowed as low as he ever bowed in the 

court of the fairy queen 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 229 

To our Great- Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Great - 
Grand-mama. 

He bowed so low that his wee green cap it 
brushed his wee green shoon, 

And nary a bell on his wee green suit but 
tinkled a dancing tune, 

And when he had finished his wee green bow, 
as easy as you please 

He spoke in a voice as soft as the hum of the 
summer bumble-bees, 
To our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great - Great - 
Grand-mama. 

"Now don't ye go frettin' yersel'," he said, 

"for it's long sorry I'd be 
To cast a cloud on the bluest eyes betwixt the 

bog and the sea ; 



230 FAIRY GOLD 

But my little green house is under this stone, 
and your suds — 'tis the wife that 
cares — 

They throuble our little green carpet, ma'am, 
and all our little green chairs. " 
O our Great- Great- Great- Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great -Great- 
Grandmama! 

"Wirra, wirra!" — she curtsied twice to that 
decent fairyman — 

"Och, it's a heart-scald for to hear, but if 
your worship can 

Be overlookin' the past, bedad, 'tis mesel' 
that forivermore 

Will be emptyin' out me ould blue tub — plaze 
the saints! — at me bit back door," 
Said our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great- Great - Great -Great- 
Grandmama. 



POEMS OF FAIRIES 23 1 

Now when she mentioned the holy saints' 
and a tactless thing was that, 

The little green fairy faded out, all but his 
plumy hat, 

Which took itself off to her most polite, and 
since that queer event 

We empty our washtubs at the back in proof 
of high descent 
From our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great -Great- 
Grandmama. 

Her thatch of rushes belike it leaked, but her 

cabin was proud as any, 
There on the borders of fairyland, where joy 

is bought for a penny, 
And ever she set a sup of the cream for her 

little green neighbors, who 
Would dance at night in her turf-fire light 

till the heart went dancing too 



232 FAIRY GOLD 

In our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great -Great- 
Grandmama. 

So I rise to propose for our family crest a wash- 
tub, azure, crowned 

With a fairy, vert; and since our race em- 
braces, the world around, 

All who empty their tubs at their own back 
doors and gladden their toil with 
dreams, 

Remember that he who scorns the least of that 
kinship disesteems 
Our Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great- 
Great - Great - Great - Great -Grand- 
mama. 



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